


Kill The Cat

by BeautifulFiction_FMA



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003)
Genre: Ed. Tongue Piercing. Sexual Tension. No Cats Were Harmed In The Making Of This Fic., Language - thanks, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-30
Updated: 2010-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-04 23:37:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 33,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4157274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeautifulFiction_FMA/pseuds/BeautifulFiction_FMA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Can Roy resist the temptation that Ed inspires within him, or will he succumb to his insatiable curiosity? RoyxEd. Both POVs.<br/><em>Initially published 2010</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_“Curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought him back.”_ \- Eugene O'Neil

Ed stood in front of Mustang's desk, his arms folded loosely across his chest as he stared out of the window. Central sprawled beyond the glass, bathed in the light of the setting sun. Bronze and amber splashed across the city and filled the office with its glow. It brushed over Ed's left arm with tender warmth, and he relished the feeling as he waited for the inevitable.

Any minute now, Roy was going to start lecturing him about the responsibilities of being a State Alchemist. It happened every time; a familiar routine but, over the past year, it had taken on a new dimension. There was no longer a patronising air to Roy's voice – gone was the indifference. Now when he spoke, there was a vein of passion forming the foundation of his words.

It was not a case of superior lecturing subordinate. It was hotter, stronger, and Ed revelled in the thrill. He could sense the tension building between them like a summer storm. That voice sent flickering sparks of awareness across his skin and turned each breath of air molten. When he stood here, feet planted squarely on the rug and trying hard not to stare, his entire being pulsed in response Mustang's presence.

Ed knew it was ridiculous; nothing but a bad case of lust, although that was such an easy way of explaining what he felt. How could one word sum up the heat that pooled in his stomach or the prickling sensation that raced over his skin whenever Roy so much as looked at him? How could four letters be enough to define the free-fall of excitement beneath his ribs?

He did his best to ignore it, but that was practically impossible. Mustang was perfect, and the man knew it. Everything about his appearance was designed to attract attention, and Ed was helpless to resist. If Roy ever realised that Ed's eyes were glazed not through boredom, but because he was imagining passion-twisted sheets and the skim of his palm over Roy's body, then Ed did not know what would happen.

Most of the time, he suspected that Mustang would be shocked, horrified and possibly even repulsed by the idea. Everyone on base knew how much Roy liked women, after all. Yet, sometimes, when Ed found himself pinned by that dark gaze, he thought he saw emotions there that were far from platonic. Duty and obligation always shielded them from full view, but, once in a while, he was almost sure that Mustang was looking at him with the same kind of helpless desire.

Shifting his weight, Ed frowned at his reflection in the windowpane. He was probably wrong. Mustang could have anyone he wanted without risking a thing. Why would he want to sleep with some bratty teenager who was always giving him grief? It was doubtful that Roy spent his time fantasising about burning touches and skin-on-skin, needy kisses, that moment of pleasure almost like pain and –  
  
'Can you stop that?'

Ed jumped, startled back to reality and trying to hide his embarrassment behind annoyance. 'I'm not doing anything,' he growled. 'It's not my fault that you're taking so long to read a two page report.'

'Perhaps if you knew how to punctuate it wouldn't be such a trial,' Roy said with dry annoyance, shooting an irritated glance over the top of the document. 'You've been tapping whatever's in your mouth against your teeth since you walked in here. I want you to stop it; it's distracting.'

Oh, that.

'Sorry,' Ed mumbled grudgingly, pursing his lips as he watched Mustang look back at the paper in his hands. Normally he was such an ice statue, but there were times when he let his masks slip. Like now. Perhaps Roy did not think he was being watched but, whatever the reason, he was not bothering to conceal his emotions. They were all there: irritation at Ed's latest screw up, tiredness from another endless day at work and a desperate longing to be out of the office.

He was rubbing one hand across the nape of his neck, and Ed clenched his fingers into a fist as he tried not to think about stroking away the tension in Roy's shoulders and smoothing his hands down strong arms, bending his head to brush kisses over Roy's skin and nuzzle at his pulse... Ed swallowed, trying to drag his imagination under control. He was torturing himself. It was never going to happen, so why could he not stop thinking about it? Why was he so fascinated by this man?

'Ed, give it to me.'

His mind went blank. 'What?' he croaked, eyes widening as Roy pushed himself out of his chair and walked around the desk, every movement like a hunter on the prowl.

'Whatever's in your mouth,' Roy said calmly, his intense gaze not leaving Ed's face as he held out a hand, palm up. 'Spit it out and give it to me.'

Ed stubbornly clamped his lips shut, shaking his head as he took half a step back, his body falling into the aggressive-defensive pose it found so natural. Orders about work were one thing, but he was not Mustang's pet. He did not have to do _everything_ Mustang said. Besides, it was not that easy.

'Fullmetal...' That one word held more than just a hint of warning. Perhaps Mustang had endured a long day; his normally controlled temper was running close to the surface, and Ed could feel the air thickening with its edge.

'I can't,' he snapped, rolling his eyes when Mustang's scowl deepened. It would be easier just to show the bastard than to explain.

Silently, he stuck out his tongue, showing the silver barbell that pierced through it. He had done it while he was away on assignment, and ever since it had healed, he found himself tapping the metal against his teeth. It was an absent-minded gesture like clicking the top of a pen and before long Ed had begun to find the habit addictive and soothing. So what if it drove other people insane? That was their problem.

After little more than a second, he hid it from sight again, pursing his lips before repeating, 'I can't spit it out, and I'm not giving it to you either.'

Mustang's face was expressionless, mask-like with surprise. However, it did not last long, and Ed watched the flash of emotions across the older man's features with interest. Doubt, confusion, disapproval and, behind it all, the tiniest flicker of something else that Ed could not name.

'What – Why – ?' Mustang stopped, visibly reaching for his control as he gathered his words. 'Why, exactly, have you stuck a piece of metal through your tongue? You hate needles, and you spend so much time telling us how mature you are that I had honestly started to believe you. I thought you were beyond this kind of rebellion.'

'Rebellion against what?' Ed asked, screwing up his face when Roy hesitated. 'There's nothing in the military rule book that says soldiers can't have piercings, and no one told me not to do it.' He shrugged, scratching absently at the back of his head as he admitted, 'There was this stupid bet with Winry just before I went away. I lost and she said I had to pierce something. There were only two things I could think of that probably wouldn't be grabbed in a fight. My tongue and – ' He blushed, his voice falling to a mutter, '– something I never want anyone to shove a needle through.'

Roy's posture changed, becoming more defensive. It was subtle, but Ed would bet anything that the instinctive hunch was an automatic response that most men would have to that idea. It seemed Mustang was not any more keen on the thought of having his dick pierced than Ed had been.

'A bet,' Mustang repeated, dark eyebrows raised in disbelief. 'Didn't it occur to you to simply say “no”?'

'Not a good idea,' Ed replied with a snort. 'I've done that before. Winry believes in retribution. Better just to suck it up and get it done. At least this way when she says “Wanna bet?” I'll remember what happened the last time I took her on.' He shrugged, feeling ridiculously self-conscious beneath Mustang's scrutiny. It was easier to get angry than feel embarrassed, and he shifted his weight, letting his voice take on an aggressive edge as he demanded, 'What does it matter, anyway? For fuck's sake, Mustang, you're not my dad. You've got no right to disapprove.'

'I am your superior officer,' Mustang said calmly, turning away as if he needed the distance between them. 'I'll be double-checking the rules, Fullmetal. If I find anything there that says you're not allowed to have that thing through your tongue, then you'll have to take it out and face the punishment.'

'Knock yourself out,' Ed muttered, lifting his chin in defiance as Roy glanced his way with an unreadable expression on his face. He did not know what was going through Mustang's head, but he was not going to whimper like a dog for disappointing him. He had checked the rules. For once in his life, he had actually thought things through before taking action, and he knew that no one in the military could give him shit for this. Mustang was a fucking hypocrite anyway. How could it be all right for Ed to get stabbed and shot at and mauled to pieces in the name of duty but not pierce his tongue through his own free will?

'Dismissed, Fullmetal.'

With a growl of anger, Ed turned away, yanking open the door and slamming his way out of the office. It was only as he strode past Hawkeye, snapping that he was going home because he had been on a train all damn day, that he realised something. Mustang had not bothered to lecture him on responsibility. Roy had just wanted him out of there, as if he could not stand Ed's presence for a moment longer.

Ed frowned as he stepped out into the corridor, clamping down hard on the keening ache in his chest. He had been fooling himself. All that time he had wondered if there was some hidden depth to Roy's feelings, and now it seemed like that was nothing but wishful thinking.

He was an idiot for ever hoping otherwise.

******

Roy swirled his glass, watching the twist of amber liquid within. Friday evening had finally come, and Havoc normally claimed this table in the bar as soon as he got the opportunity. It was the perfect way to blend out of office life and into the weekend. They could all unwind and, in the silence of their heads, pray that no emergencies would drag them from their drinks and back to their duties.

Normally, it was the ideal way to forget about any little nagging work concerns, but Ed had come back from assignment today. He had been gone for more than two months, and Roy should have known that there would be some kind of sting in the tail to what was a relatively straight-forward mission.

Every time Fullmetal returned to base it seemed he was injured or furious or breaking apart beneath the strain. Roy could usually deal with the paperwork and staunch the blood and generally set him back on the right track, but this time Ed had revealed something so entirely unexpected that he had not even known how to react.

No, that was a lie. His body had known what to do. Ed always made the heat in Roy's blood flare, and this time had been no different. When Ed had stuck his tongue out and shown Roy that glimpse of silver, it had only been shock that had stopped him from slamming Ed back into the wall and claiming his mouth, tongue, taste, body, _everything_.

The brat did not seem to realise how provocative he could be. He had grown into a stunning young man and now he stood in front of Roy's desk with a body that practically screamed out to be touched, and that was fine. Roy could deal with that, because what could Ed offer him that no one else could? There were plenty of others out there, and whoever Roy chose to take to bed would not threaten so much – his ambitions, his career, his emotional reserve...

Anyone else could be held at a distance, his to control, but not Fullmetal. Ed might be painfully attractive, but he was also trouble, and Roy had never quite wanted to risk it all that much. Then Edward had to go and make himself that fraction more appealing. He had to push at Roy's equilibrium and unsettle his balance with the simple addition of clean, pure, desperate curiosity to his emotional turmoil.

_What would it be like to kiss him now?_

'You're sure it was real?' Havoc asked, dragging Roy from his doomed thoughts as he flicked ash onto an empty plate. 'Not stuck on somehow?'

'How can you stick something onto your tongue?' Breda asked, snorting laughter into his pint. 'You'd swallow it. I don't know why you're so surprised. That Rockbell girl has more rings in her ears than you'd find on a curtain rail.'

Jean shrugged. 'I don't know, I just didn't think Ed would ever do that kind of thing. It's a bit –' He made a vague gesture as if he could not find the right word. 'It's kind of like he's trying to get attention, but Ed hates people staring at him.'

'Which is exactly why he only pierced his tongue,' Roy pointed out, looking up from his glass. 'If he hadn't been tapping it against his teeth I'd never have known. Almost everything else is something you display, but that's something he could keep hidden if he felt like it.' He sighed, leaning back in his chair. 'Falman, any luck?'

The dark-haired man looked up from his perusal of the rule book and shook his head. 'No, sir. There are a few of the uniform rules that you might be able to put a harsh interpretation on, but –'

'But since you've let Ed get away without wearing a uniform for years, then you don't have a leg to stand on.'

Roy shot a black look across the table at Hughes. He was sitting in a chair with his arms behind his head, as relaxed and easy as ever. Worse, Roy recognised the gleam in his best friend's eye and the particular smile that tilted his lips. He had expected Maes to drum up some kind of quasi-parental horror at Ed's stunt, but instead he acted like it was all some kind of brilliant joke.

'You have to give him some credit, Roy,' Hughes pointed out, leaning forward and reaching for his drink. 'He thought it through, and he probably put the concerns of the military above his personal comfort. For once in his life, Ed _compromised_ on something. That's progress, isn't it?'

'What do you mean?' Roy asked wearily, knowing his friend would tell him even without the prompting.

'Well, from what I understand, piercing the tongue's not painless. It probably also takes a while to heal, yet he chose that over anything else.'

'So it wouldn't get pulled out in a fight,' Roy pointed out, repeating Ed's reasoning.

'That, and because it wouldn't fall foul of the military rules. You've been looking for an excuse to get him to take it out, and you've come up with nothing.'

Roy took a gulp of his drink, swallowing it back as he said, 'So you're saying I should be grateful he read the damn rule book and followed it, for once?'

Hughes gave him a slow, patient look that never failed to make Roy feel like an idiot. 'When has Ed ever cared about breaking the rules? He's not the one who gets into trouble. Generals don't complain at him about not wearing his uniform, at least, not so much that he listens. They get on your case instead.' Maes grinned. 'It might be hard to believe, but I think Ed was actually trying to spare you a bit of trouble while still honouring the bet.' He gave a shrug, leaning forward and grabbing some peanuts from the bowl in front of Kain. 'Maybe I'm wrong, but you've got to admit, it could have been a lot worse.'

'Yeah,' Havoc added, 'with the shit Ed's been through, I've been waiting for him to go off the rails in a big way. Drugs, drink – '

'Getting some girl pregnant,' Breda chipped in. 'If one piercing is the only typically “teenage” thing he does, then we must be doing something right.'

'We're not his family,' Hawkeye pointed out calmly, speaking for the first time. 'The only person who can claim credit for how well Edward has grown up is Edward himself, and possibly Alphonse.'

'Hey, I wonder if Al knows,' Fuery mused, snatching the last nuts out of Breda's reach. 'I wonder what he thinks...'

Slowly, the conversation shifted onto other topics, including some of the poor choices they had all made through their painful climb towards adulthood. It flowed around Roy like a river, and he listened to it all, taking in the little facets of small-talk that gave so much insight in his command. Yet, every few minutes, his thoughts returned to Ed, and it was not long before he was lost once more.

He had been staring into his empty tumbler for several minutes when someone took it from his grasp, replacing it with another. A healthy double measure of whisky glowed in the bottom, and he considered it for a moment before lifting it to his lips and taking a swig. The evening had worn on and, one by one, his command had left to begin their weekend. Now it was only him and Hughes, and Roy did not even blink as his friend settled in the chair at his side.

'Shouldn't you be going home to Gracia?' he asked quietly, doodling in the spills on the table with his bare finger.

'I will, soon enough,' Hughes replied, putting his elbow on the surface and propping his head in his hand. 'First, though, you're going to tell me why you're so keen to get rid of Ed's latest metal acquisition – and don't try to tell me it's because you're his superior officer, Roy. I've caught the way you look at him sometimes, and there's nothing professional about it – nor parental, for that matter.'

Roy groaned quietly to himself. He should have known this was coming. He had spent the whole evening being distracted and distant, and now Maes was going to do what he did best: interfere.

'Is it really important?' he asked, hoping to put Hughes off.

'You've been sulking into your drink for hours,' Maes replied in a blunt voice. 'It's obviously important to _you._ '

This always happened and, in a way, Roy realised that it was part of why he and Hughes were such good friends. Maes did not let him keep secrets. He had never tolerated Roy's distance but, at the same time, he had never betrayed his trust, either. What Roy told Hughes was kept in confidence. He knew the true breadth of Roy's sexual preferences; he understood everything, from Roy's ghosts to his goals, and now he sat there, patiently waiting for an answer.

Roy ducked his head lower, sober enough to glance subtly around the bar and make sure that no one could overhear them. They sat in their own isolated patch of calm amidst the laughing drinkers, walled in by the sound of chatter on all sides. He took another thoughtful gulp of his drink, wondering how much Maes already suspected. If he had seen the way Roy stared at Ed sometimes, then he had probably already guessed a big part of the problem.

'Ed's grown into an attractive young man,' he admitted quietly, tapping his fingers against his glass. 'I've been trying to ignore that, and I've managed it so far. Now he's pierced his tongue, and all I can think about is –' He cut himself off, frowning as Hughes raised his eyebrows in question. 'It just caught my attention when I've been doing my best to ignore him, that's all,' he finished lamely.

'Hmmm.' Hughes cocked his head to one side, considering him through narrowed eyes. 'You know, for someone who's so good at politics, you're a terrible liar. You know you might as well tell me the whole truth, rather than only giving me half the story. I'll find out eventually.'

A flicker of irritation uncurled through Roy's body, and he took a deep breath as he tried to quell it. Maes was trying to help, in his own unique way, and maybe by explaining precisely why he was so bothered by Ed's tongue piercing, he would be able to rationalise it into something more manageable.

'I've had a number of lovers,' he admitted quietly, 'all with their own kinks and quirks, and I've never had to risk anything to have them. Every time I've thought about all that Ed can offer I've reminded myself of what I might stand to lose and that fear has always outweighed my attraction, _just_.'

Maes made an understanding noise as comprehension dawned. 'Now Ed's got a tongue piercing, which isn't exactly common around these parts, and the whole balance of how you feel has shifted from “want” to “need”, right?'

Roy closed his eyes, trying to breathe around the shifting fist of heat that clenched beneath his ribs. It was one thing to think that, but another to hear someone put it into words. 'I can't need him, Maes! I've spent the whole night trying to forget about him! It's not just the tongue piercing, if it was I would make sure my next partner had one and leave it at that; it's the tongue piercing in Ed's mouth.'

He sighed, propping his elbows on the table and tunnelling his fingers into his hair. 'It's just a bit of metal, for god's sake. It doesn't change anything. He's still an out-of-bounds subordinate. He's still dangerous!'

'But now, maybe you're wondering if the risk's worth taking?' Hughes smiled, giving a “what can I do?” shrug. 'I don't envy you, I'll admit that, but you know what they say about curiosity, Roy.'

'It killed the cat,' he muttered miserably, lifting his head as Maes chuckled.

'There's another part to that saying, you know. “Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.” I can only see one viable way out of your predicament,' Hughes said with a sigh before draining his glass and putting it back on the table. 'Find Ed, kiss him, and see what happens next.'

Roy stared in disbelief, wondering what Hughes had been drinking. 'Are you out of your mind?' he asked in a voice edged with horror. 'Even if Ed doesn't kill me for kissing him completely uninvited, there's still what could happen if anyone found out, there's still -'

Maes cut him off with an impatient gesture. 'You spend your life lying to the brass, Roy. You bend military rules like willow on a daily basis, and, believe me, the looks I've seen Ed give you sometimes have nothing to do with punching.' Hughes rested a hand on his shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze of reassurance. 'If things carry on the way they are between the two of you, then it's just going to build until you lose control, and I know how much you hate that.'

With a sigh, Maes got to his feet, dragging his jacket off the back of his chair before shrugging it on. 'If this really is simple curiosity, then one kiss will be enough to give you your answers. If it's something more, then isn't it worth exploring on your own terms rather than waiting for the point of no return?' He smiled as Roy's spinning thoughts took a slower, more considering turn. 'Think about it, all right? Goodnight, Roy.'

He murmured a quiet “goodnight” in response, watching Hughes nudge his way out of the bar before looking back at his almost-empty glass. He had hoped that his friend would give him an answer, and Maes had not failed him. It simply was not the answer Roy had hoped for. He had wanted an easy way out, and instead he found himself facing a simple choice.

Roy could ignore what Ed had done, could pretend nothing was any different and get on with his life, or he could risk everything for the simple satisfaction of knowing the truth.

_What would it be like?_

God, he needed another drink.

*****

Ed scuffed his way along the pavement, jacket slung over his shoulder and his gloves stuffed into his pockets. The autumn night smelled like car exhaust and cool air. It would be winter again, soon, but for a few more weeks it was still warm enough to brave the night air in his vest. Besides, a few drinks had made him immune to the playful nip of the wind.

He had gone out with Al and some of the people from his class, and pretty soon one empty glass had been joined by a few more. It was not enough to make Ed do anything stupid. All it did was slow him down a bit, wrapping him in a warm haze and easing some of the tension from his muscles. Unfortunately, it only served to highlight his tiredness and, before too long, he had decided to make tracks home.

Al was staying over with one of his class-mates, a pretty girl who hung on his every word. Ed did not know if they were sleeping, studying or something else. Either way, he knew Al would be sensible. Most of him was just glad that, after so much time in armour, Al was getting to enjoy what being a teenager meant.

Of course, a tiny part of him that he absolutely hated was jealous. Al had someone who was so obviously interested in him that it was almost painful, and what did he have? An empty flat and a cold bed – where was the fun in that?

Ed had briefly considered going looking for someone to help solve the problem, but he had never been able to use people for sex. That was more Mustang's area than his. He had known his lovers before he bedded them, some longer than others, but he had at least spent time seeing them as more than just a convenient body, looking beyond their skin to who they were underneath.

He would bet anything that Roy could not say the same.

Unfortunately, one by one, he had realised they were only substitutes. Yeah, they were fun to have around, satisfying, educating, thrilling at times, but they were not _him_. They were not Mustang, and they never could be. Maybe that was why none of his relationships lasted more than a few months – maybe after a while they sensed that, somehow, they were always going to be second best, no matter how hard Ed tried otherwise.

With a sigh, he attempted to shake all thoughts of the bastard out of his head. Wasn't it bad enough that his dreams were full of Roy, naked and heavy on top of his body? Did every waking moment have to be absorbed by the smirking git as well? It was lust, he told himself firmly, that was all. One day, it would fade and he would be able to forget all about Roy Mustang for good.

He tried to ignore the tiny whisper in his head that these thoughts had been going on for _years_ now. Ever since the hormones had kicked in and Ed had worked out that sex was way more than just a word, his body had pined for that man's touch.

'Never gonna happen,' Ed growled to himself, pressing his lips together in a thin line as his stomach sank. It should not hurt so much to admit that out loud. He was used to not getting what he wanted. It seemed like he had spent his whole life chasing impossible dreams, and only once, when getting Al's body back, had things gone his way.

Something tightened in his chest, and Ed ducked his head, scowling at his walking feet. He was not used to giving up. Being accustomed to failure was one thing, but he had never even tried to get Mustang to notice him, had he? At least, not in the right way. Sure, Roy paid attention to him, but it was normally only to lecture or sigh or make some cheap “short” joke. Even if there was ever a darker spark in his gaze when they stood face-to-face – and Ed had begun to think that was a figment of his imagination – Mustang had never said a damn word about it. He had not given Ed the slightest indication that there was anything to even hope for...

So why didn't this feeling go away?

A gust of wind lifted Ed's hair back from his face, and he narrowed his eyes against its edge as his mind continued to turn. Basically, he had two options. The first was to carry on as normal, to get on with it and live with this constant tightness in his chest and heat that seemed to hum through his veins whenever Roy even glanced his way. That was the safe thing to do.

Alternatively, he could dig up some balls and tell the bastard how he felt.

Ed shuddered as uncertainty and exhilaration washed through him in equal measure. He tried to imagine standing in front of Mustang and actually saying – what? That he liked him as more than a superior officer? More than a friend? That he would actually quite like to do obscene things to him at every opportunity?

It might work. It might be the chance Roy was looking for to drop those stupid masks and admit similar feelings, but it was far more likely that Mustang would laugh or stare or simply dismiss him like a good toy soldier to go and die of the humiliation.

No, he did not have the courage to bare himself like that. Anything else he could face: chimera, madmen, arrays turned to ice with their light, but not Roy's rejection. He wished it did not bother him that much but, some when, Mustang's opinion of him had started to matter. He had started to care what the git thought of him, and the idea of Roy looking at him with nothing but disdain was more than he could stomach.

'Fucker,' Ed muttered, turning the corner and kicking at an empty beer bottle in irritation. A bright, glassy chime echoed on the street as it spun away. Ghostly reflections of the city lights winked from its surface as it rattled over cracks in the paving, only coming to a halt when a boot stopped it in its tracks.

Ed blinked in surprise at the man leaning against the wall of his apartment building like he owned the place. Mustang's hair was ruffled as if he had been running his fingers through it all night, and his jacket buttons and shirt collar were open, revealing a narrow vee of pale skin. Ed's gaze lingered there for a fraction too long, and the familiar heat of desire curled in his stomach.

'What the hell are you doing here?' Ed demanded, hiding behind the familiar wall of his anger. 'If it's about work, then forget it. There's no way I'm coming back into the office at this time of night.'

Normally, his insubordination was enough to tighten Roy's mouth into a flat line, but this time it seemed to go over his head. 'I'm not here because of work,' Roy replied, straightening up as Ed stopped in front of him. 'I'm here because of that thing in your mouth.'

The expression on Mustang's face was almost impossible to place: anger, annoyance and frustration seemed to be drawn across his features, but there was also an edge of hopelessness there that Ed did not understand.

'What's your problem? I already told you, it doesn't break any rules. You can harp on about it all you want, but you can't make me take it out.' A thought guttered across Ed's mind, and dread formed like ice in his guts. Earlier, he had yelled at Mustang that he was not his dad, but Ed had not really thought that was the issue – he had just wanted to piss off the bastard.

Yet now, hours later, Roy had come back for round two. Was he – was he really thinking that Ed was his responsibility? Had Ed been standing in that office picturing Mustang as a lover while the man himself saw him more as a _son_?

'I know I can't, that's not why I'm here.' Roy pushed himself away from the wall and took a step closer, closing the distance between them. He was easily within arm's reach, and Ed lifted his chin to meet his eyes as his heart picked up its pulse. He caught the beer-and-smoke smell that lingered on Roy's jacket, as well as a sweeter, spicy scent that turned Ed's mouth dry.

Mustang shifted, pursing his lips and looking suddenly – nervous? Ed narrowed his eyes at that, wondering if he was interpreting the tilt of Roy's mouth and the pull of his brow correctly, or if this was just another mask for him to puzzle over.

'I'm sorry,' Roy said, and now his voice was not clipped or commanding. It was low and husky in a way that made Ed's spine go tight, 'but there's something I need to find out.'

'Wh –?'

The question died in Ed's throat as Mustang reached out, his bare hand cupping along Ed's jaw. Two fingertips rested on the throb of life in his neck as he guided Ed's face up a little further and pressed a kiss against his lips.

It was not exactly bruising, but it was nothing close to chaste. Roy's mouth moved over his in wordless demand, and Ed 's entire body stiffened in shock at the blatant challenge. The faintest scrape of sharp teeth against his bottom lip was like a dare and, helpless to do anything but respond, Ed parted his lips, eyelashes fluttering closed as he felt the first, hot swipe of Roy's tongue against his own.

He tasted of whisky and Roy, sweetly addictive, and Ed's body responded instinctively. His fingers curled in Roy's jacket, tugging him closer and holding him in place as his spine curved, pushing him closer to Mustang's warmth. Roy's other hand had slid around to splay over Ed's back, and the touch burned through his vest as he began to return the kiss in earnest. He half-expected the metal bar through his tongue to make it awkward, but all thoughts of its presence were wiped from his mind as he tilted his head, changing the angle and going deeper.

A quiet groan of appreciation rumbled in Roy's chest, and he broke back with a gasp as if waking up from a dream. His cheeks were flushed, and Ed watched, hypnotised, as his tongue darted out to wet swollen lips. Mustang looked as if he could not believe what he had just done and, in eyes eclipsed by want, Ed saw the sharp bloom of guilt.

He tightened his grip on Roy's jacket, but his fingers were still numb with the strange, brimming heat of desire, and the fabric slipped free from his grasp as Mustang took one step back, then another, letting the cold night air seep into the space where his body had been. 'I'm sorry,' he whispered in a voice hushed to almost nothing, shaking his head and dragging a trembling hand through his hair. 'I didn't – I shouldn't –' His boots scraped on the pavement, a loud, jagged sound in the silence as he repeated, 'I'm sorry.'

Ed tried to shake himself out of his stupor, but it was too late. Roy had already turned and was hurrying back into the night. Circles of street-light strobed over his departing figure, and Ed could only stare, stunned, until Roy's silhouette dipped out of sight around the corner and the spell was broken.

Dragging in a ragged breath, Ed let his hand fall to his side as he stared along the empty, wind-swept road. Words – angry and pleading, bitter and needy – all pulsed in his throat, but his voice was gone. Mustang had stolen it away with his kiss, and Ed was left with nothing but the lingering taste of alcohol and Roy. Lifting his left hand, he brushed his fingertips to his lips, and then felt like an idiot for doing it. What was he expecting to find? A brand? It was just a kiss, that was all. Nothing important about it – nothing special.

Except that it had been Roy's mouth over his, Roy's tongue between his lips stroking with just a hint of desperation, as if Ed's response was something he needed but feared all the same.

Ed took a step towards the end of the street and stopped, trying to work out what to do. Why had Mustang done that? Why had he kissed him? Why had he run away with his tail between his legs afterwards? What gave Mustang the right to stroke life into the guttering star of hope in Ed's heart and then _leave_?

Clenching his hands into fists, he lifted his chin and strode forward. He did not have a clue what was going on, but he was damn well going to find out.

******

Roy stepped into his front hall, closing the door behind him and leaning back against it as he tunnelled his fingers into his hair. His heart was racing, pounding out its excited rhythm against the curve of his ribs, and his entire body felt like one big pulse, hyper-sensitive and aware of every fleeting sensation.

'Shit,' he hissed, closing his eyes and scrubbing his hands over his face. That had not gone according to plan. After Hughes had left, Roy had given his advice serious thought. With every sip of whisky that passed his lips, it began to make more and more sense and, by the time he had gone looking for Ed, he had been completely sure of his purpose. He would have one kiss – _one_ – just to satisfy his curiosity. He would prove to himself once and for all that Ed was nothing out of the ordinary, not even with a tongue piercing.

And it had just been one kiss, although those words seemed far too simple to describe what had taken place. As soon as Ed's lips had parted beneath his, he had been lost. It was as if his being had been waiting for an age and now, finally, it had found some strange kind of completion.

The scent of machine-oil, leather and Ed seemed to linger around him despite his brisk walk through Central's streets. Roy's lips burned with the all too-recent memory of the kiss, and he could still feel the slippery glide of Ed's tongue across the roof of his mouth, soft except for the startling, smooth curve of the silver ball that nestled there.

He had not expected it to feel so good, that was the problem. Roy had honestly, stupidly believed that Ed would be unpractised and amateurish, and instead he had found himself seduced in seconds. It was not just the fact Ed had known what he was doing, but he had welcomed Roy's attentions and returned them with perfect, blissful, honest ease.

Pushing himself away from the door, Roy shrugged out of his jacket and threw it at the coat rack, ignoring the rush of material as it missed and fell on the floor. He could not deal with anything so mundane right now. His mind was full, brimming with thoughts of Ed and glowing with a cataclysm of emotions too numerous and conflicting to count.

Before now, he had forced himself not to dwell on his attraction for Ed. It was lusting after a futile hope, and a dangerous one at that, so he had closed his mind to any consideration. All this time he had looked at Ed and wanted him, all this time he had told himself that it was not worth the risk and now, in the space of a minute, Ed had almost convinced him otherwise.

And Roy had no one but himself to blame. If it was not for his stupid obsession – his ridiculous need to have an answer to every question – then he would never have allowed himself such an opportunity. He would never have got close enough to Ed to be drawn in, and none of this would have happened.

'Idiot,' he mumbled to himself, his mouth twisting in a wretched grimace as he made his way towards the kitchen. He needed coffee. Perhaps caffeine would make the tangled knot of his emotions easier to understand. He definitely needed _something_ , because right now he felt torn between exhilaration and anger, hope and fear. Filling the kettle, he put it on the stove, lighting the burner before he turned to look out of his window at the night. Ed had done this to him, had reduced him to this quivering mess of uncertainty and need, and sullen resentment stirred in Roy's chest. How could the brat be capable of this? How could he have taken all of Roy's control and obliterated it so easily?

In the end, that was what had made him pull back. Roy had barely noticed what was happening; he had been too far gone to notice the betrayal of his own body. His hands had splayed across Ed's waist and stroked along his jaw as if they belonged there, and it felt natural to hold Ed in his arms. Even the tilt of his head had felt right, and it was only when Roy's voice had joined in the chorus, letting out a groan of something like relief, that he had realised what was happening.

His mind had decided on one kiss, but his heart demanded everything.

The indignant shriek of the kettle interrupted his thoughts, and he set about making himself some coffee, trying to find something soothing in the familiar routine. He was just adding some milk to take off the bitter edge of the drink when someone knocked at his front door.

It was a loud, demanding sound, and Roy's heart thrashed as he realised who it must be. He should have known that Ed would never let things lie. Anyone else when faced with a similar situation would have slunk off to marinade in confusion, but not Ed. He had to face everything head-on and demand his answers, and Roy knew that he would stand on his doorstep all night if he had to. Ed was not about to let this slide.

Roy lifted his chin, smoothing out his expression as he tried to look as dignified as possible. Ed might have stirred him up like a cheap cocktail, but he was not about to let the brat know that. He would answer the door and say something so calm and belittling that Ed would scurry away and never speak of it again. In the end, that would be best for everyone.

Striding across the hall, he tugged at the handle, revealing a wide expanse of his night-soaked street and Ed – who did not look nervous or confused but furious. His eyes were narrowed, sunlight irises rimmed by the black line of his lashes. The wind was teasing his ponytail and strands of blonde hair caught the meek street-light, turning it to bright, bold gold.

'What the fuck are you playing at?' Ed demanded, pushing the door wider and stepping through into Roy's hall, forcing him to back up as the door swung shut behind him again. That was not part of the plan, but Roy was too slow to respond and now Ed was in his house, in his territory, in his face and as cocky-confident as ever. 'You can't kiss someone and then _run away_.'

'I didn't run away,' Roy answered, retreating another step before he realised what he was doing. He had seen Ed in a thousand different kinds of rage, and he had never backed down before. Now was not a good time to start. Admittedly, this was not his normal anger. It was less volatile and more thoughtful as if, beneath the snapping sparks, Ed was watching his reactions, but it was still nothing to be afraid of. 'I realised my mistake.'

There should have been a glimmer of hurt at that, but Ed raised one doubtful eyebrow as if he could see through the thin veil of that half-truth to what lay beneath. 'Mistake?' he repeated, and his voice was thick with disbelief. 'What, did you think I was someone else?'

'No, that's not – ' Roy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he fought to find the right words that would get Ed out of his house without saying too much and leaving himself vulnerable. 'I shouldn't have gone looking for you tonight. I didn't mean to –' He trailed off, hating that words failed him when he needed them most. How was he meant to convince Ed that what had happened was a bad thing when he did not believe it himself? 'If you hadn't pierced your tongue, this would not have happened.'

'So it's _my_ fault?' Ed demanded, shaking his head and cuffing his hair out of his face. 'For fuck's sake, Mustang, tell me why. That's all I'm asking for!'

There were so many possible answers, some more truthful than others and almost all of them likely to infuriate Ed further or propel the pair of them down a road that Roy was too afraid to take. In the end, he settled on a half truth, keeping his words simple and cold. 'I wanted to know what it would be like to kiss someone with a tongue stud, that is all,' he said while his heart screamed and ached and called him a liar. 'I apologise, and it won't happen again. My curiosity is satisfied.'

He had seen many things on Ed's face, from common anger to rarest joy, but the expression on those attractive features was not one Roy recognised. Hurt or rage he was braced for, but instead Ed looked dazzling intelligent and aware, as if this were a game he had already planned and now he was simply going through the motions towards inevitable victory. He was watching Roy as the silence furled around them, and it took all Roy's strength to keep his masks in place, to hold himself distant and aloof when he felt like he was crumbling inside: sand before Ed's unstoppable tide.

'Satisfied?' Ed's voice was deathly quiet in the peace of Roy's hallway, little more than a whisper, and when he prowled forward with lithe, almost dancer-like grace, Roy's heart tripped into a staggering tango, exhilarated with a dash of fear mixed in. Part of him knew he should not step back, should not give Ed any ground, but it was impossible. He had to maintain the distance between them, because if he failed in that then he was not sure his control could stand it.

The wall was a shocking barrier at his back, and Roy's breath left him in a gentle 'whuff' as he realised he could retreat no further. His masks were scattered at his feet, and all he could do was watch Ed helplessly as the younger man stopped in front of him, toe-to-toe and right in Roy's personal space.

Ed's eyes were shot through with honey, so close that Roy could see every fleck that mapped its way across the golden irises, and he shivered as Ed spoke again. 'Prove it. If you're really satisfied, then you can kiss me again without losing yourself in it. Do that, and I'll believe you. I'll believe this was some fucked up “mistake”, walk out the door, and never mention it again.'

Something clenched in Roy's chest, an emotional pain that had nothing to do with his body but was agony none-the-less. Ed always did back him into corners, but this was a non-choice. His lips tingled with the memory of Ed's kiss – burnt, branded, ruined for all he knew – and his mind screamed at him that he should turn away, should not take the risk, but everything else keened for one more taste of Ed's lips. One more, and then he would find a way to turn his back to everything on offer and carry on his normal life, where Ed hovered on the fringes, rather than threatening to become the centre of Roy's universe.

'Equivalent exchange, Mustang,' Ed muttered, leaning in a little more, so close that Roy could feel the heat of his skin. 'You kissed me last time. Now I get to kiss you.'

Before Roy could do anything, could voice any protest or even brace himself for the devastating onslaught of unstoppable desire, Ed's lips were over his own. He expected it to be fierce and demanding like the brat himself, but this, in the beginning at least, was something so tender it was almost heart-breaking. Soft skin whispered across Roy's mouth, worshipful, and he let his eyes flutter closed, his fingers tightening into fists at his sides. He had to stay in control, had to be able to push Ed away because the alternative – surrender to this – was not an option he could face.

Ed must have sensed his desperate restraint, must have known just how to push to break the reins of Roy's discipline, because he tentatively swept his tongue out, dipping inside and taking a taste, soft, not pushing, gentle, not commanding, but it was just enough to make a choked off whimper catch in Roy's throat.

He parted his lips, allowing Ed better access as warm fingers slipped around Roy's waist, holding him against the wall. Roy's nose was full of Ed's leather-clad scent and his mouth brimming with the taste of him. He could feel the rapid beat of Ed's heart where their chests were pressed together, and it was all too much. This was what he wanted – this and more – and maybe Ed had more control than that, maybe he was not the pawn in this game but the player, because all of Roy's fears disintegrated to dust as his determination not to respond vanished, turned to ash by the inferno of his desire.

His body reacted on its own, fingers around Ed's wrists and twisting until their positions were reversed: Ed backed against the wall and Roy pressed against him hard and tight. His tongue tangled with Ed's, graceful but desperate, and when Ed met each flicker and caress as if he needed nothing else but this, Roy's knees went weak.

There was no name for the emotions charging through him: everything – he felt everything, every twitch of Ed's fingers and hitch of breath, every unsteady, artless grind of his hips and every flutter of Ed's lashes against his cheek. It was too much: more than he could have and all he had ever wanted. The sheer intensity of his need was like a battering ram, obliterating everything beneath its mighty swing, both liberating and terrifying.

That fear was what made Roy jerk back, as suddenly as if he was a puppet and someone had yanked his strings. Ed's eyes flicked open, and though they were still close enough for each panting breath to mingle and entwine, the distance was enough to douse cold water on Roy's ardour, leaving him trembling and horrified at himself. He had lost control, not once, but twice in the same evening; he had made up his mind to do one thing, only to be betrayed by his own reactions, and that was unheard of. Roy had spent years building himself a reputation as a manipulator, a leader, and how could one person do so much to shake it all apart? How could Ed be the one who could knock down the bastions of Roy's control with nothing but a touch?

'Like fuck you're satisfied, Mustang,' Ed growled. A few strands of hair stuck themselves to his cheek, creating bright golden trails across his skin. Yet they were nowhere near as vivid as Ed's eyes. His face was flushed hot and his shoulders were shifting with the slowing rhythm of his breathing, and Roy watched as Ed leaned back against the wall, as casually as if he were propping up a bar, and gave Roy the hardest, longest look of his life.

Roy was desperate to say something, to line up the words that would deny Ed's accusations and get him _out_ of Roy's house, but his tongue was not working any more. In the end, all that came out was a heavy whisper blooming like a rose in his throat – thorns and all. 'I'm sorry. I can't have this – you.' It hurt to admit that out loud, and Roy swallowed tightly, meeting Ed's eyes and feeling hopeless as he repeated. 'I can't.'

Ed seemed to take those words in, turning them over in his head as he looked away from Roy and at the floor. Roy thought he was simply formulating his argument, and a shiver of surprise darted down his spine as Ed shrugged, straightening up and pushing himself away from the wall. His footsteps seemed strangely loud to Roy's ears, and when Ed stopped at his shoulder and met his eyes again, he could see the regret held deep like an open-wound in those depths.

'Nothing's impossible, Mustang.' Ed's lips pulled in a strange, sad smile, more a grimace than anything like joy. 'Guess you just don't want me enough to try.' He shook his head like it did not matter, like he could not hear the wail of Roy's heart as he stepped away and pulled open the front door, letting in the wide, dark night.

'Ed,' His voice was enough to make the younger man hesitate on the doorstep, but he did not turn around fully, just turned his head in half an acknowledgement, and there was nothing Roy could say. 'I'm sorry.'

Ed's hand tightened on the door handle, Roy heard the whisper of metal on metal before Ed ducked his head. 'So am I.'

With that he was gone, leaving Roy standing in his hallway and staring miserably at his closed front door. It had been the right thing to do – nipping any hope in the bud before it could flourish – it had been best for everyone. Not because of the military, not because of what people would say but because of how he and Ed reacted to each other. So much passion, so much want and need and something softer hidden beneath it all that Roy knew it could only end in pain. Better to avoid it completely. Better to keep his heart safe and out of Ed's reach than give it up and know he would break it sooner or later.

Roy bowed his head, closing his eyes as he clung to his words. They were all he had, tonight, and he had never felt so alone.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

Soft sunlight washed into the bedroom, coaxing Ed from the shallow waters of a troubled sleep. For a few moments, he blinked towards the window. Birdsong and the occasional hum of a car engine told him that the day was getting under-way, but it felt as if the night had passed in the blink of an eye. Ed was exhausted. The sheets were twisted around his body and one of his pillows was on the floor: a refugee from the night's battle with sleep.

With a grunt, Ed finally hauled himself out of bed, scrubbing his hands over his face as he tried to sort through his thoughts. He had spent the entire weekend thinking about what had happened on Friday night. Sometimes it felt like a dream, but there were too many sharp thorns amidst the bliss for it to be anything but reality. Mustang had kissed him – hot and wild and full of need. Not just once, either, but the end result was still the same: an empty bed and unsatisfied want. Mustang felt it was something they could not have, and Ed...

Ed knew that there was a time to keep pushing Roy's buttons, and a time to back off. That first kiss had not been a mistake, nor had it been something born of curiosity, not really. Ed knew the taste of questioning kisses; they contained little more than a spark, if that. Such things were restrained and thought through, but when Mustang's lips touched his it was as if instinct were in the driver's seat. It had nothing to do with the conscious mind; it was the domain of something far more animalistic, and Ed's body thrilled at the memory.

'Get a grip,' Ed muttered to himself, stumbling around his room and pulling a pair of pants up to his hips so he was decent enough to make the trip to the bathroom. Today was Monday, and Ed was dreading returning to work. How would Roy react? Would things be different between them now, or would the bastard pretend that nothing had happened?

A thump on the door broke him out of his reverie, and Ed rolled his eyes as Al called out, 'Brother, it's time to get up. You're going to be late!'

'I'm awake,' he replied, grabbing clean clothes and boots as he stumbled across the room and out into the corridor. He could hear Al in the kitchen of the tiny apartment, clanging through a hurried breakfast, and Ed turned towards the bathroom. Normally, he liked to linger in the shower, but if Al was already on his case then he did not have time for more than a perfunctory wash. Within minutes he was clean, teeth brushed and clothes tugged on over faintly damp skin. A clap of his hands and a sizzle of alchemy evaporated the water from his hair, and he caught it up in a ponytail before tugging open the bathroom door.

The smell of bacon made his stomach roar, and he followed his nose to find a plate waiting for him on the table. Al had his books open on the kitchen surface, and his pencil made furious scratching noises as he scribbled down a few notes.

'Homework?' Ed asked, knowing before Al answered that would not be the case. Alphonse was a model student, born for the academic circuit. He hit deadlines with ease and perfection and never did anything at the last minute.

'Extra credit,' Al replied. 'It's not due for another month, but I just had an idea about supporting my theories.'

Ed shook his head to himself as he sat at the table and began to eat. As if Al needed extra credit. It was embarrassing the university enough that they had a student on their hands smarter than most of the professors put together. Still, it kept Al quiet and happy – that's what mattered.

Ed had just swallowed the last mouthful of breakfast when Al set a mug of coffee down in front of him and slumped into the chair opposite, giving Ed an intense, no-nonsense look that bordered on a glare. He knew his brother too well to believe that Al simply wanted to be comfortable, and he frowned suspiciously as Alphonse lifted an eyebrow. 'What?'

'Are you going to tell me what's been bothering you all weekend?' Al asked innocently, folding his arms across his chest. 'And don't say “nothing”. I won't believe you.'

'I'm going to be late, remember?' Ed muttered, taking a gulp of black coffee and inhaling the bitter scent.

'You've got five minutes.' Al narrowed his eyes, so like Ed's own, and Ed knew that there was not much that slipped past his little brother's notice. All those years in armour had been put to good use, and even now Al watched people, taking in every little gesture and clue and putting them together in an eerily accurate conclusion. 'Something happened on Friday night after you left the bar, and you've been sulking about it for days.'

'I don't sulk.' Ed sighed as Al gave him a disbelieving look. 'It's nothing important. Are you going out with that girl again tonight?'

Al rolled his eyes like Ed was being the most tiresome person in the world. 'Her name is Claire, and yes. Now stop trying to change the subject. You're bad at it and –' Al paused, and Ed's stomach clenched with dread. He and Al were still incredibly close – could read each other's mood with just a glance if they tried – and he knew the look of dawning comprehension on Al's face. He had put two and two together, and perhaps he was not quite getting the full four, but he probably would not be far off.

'Oh, it's personal, isn't it?' There was no hiding the anxiety in Al's voice, and Ed could not really blame him for that. Al's private life had not yet come across any hurdles that left him dazed and broken. In comparison, Ed's was a minefield of disaster. Alphonse knew about his preferences and did not care that Ed chose men over women every time, but there was no way Ed could hide the fact that none of his relationships lasted long or brought him more than fleeting happiness.

'It's not Mark, is it?'

Ed glared. 'No, I'm not a fuckin' idiot, Al. Mark wasn't even personal – he was just a... mistake.' A married mistake, which Ed had not known at the time and was never, _ever_ going to tell his brother. 'I just don't want to talk about it, all right?' He said it as firmly as he could, knowing that Al did not always let a subject drop. Besides, it was not like there was anything to discuss. A kiss did not make a relationship; Mustang had made that perfectly clear.

Al looked like he wanted to push the issue, to pick and pick until Ed gave him an answer, but finally he nodded, his face pinched with familiar concern. 'If you're sure, but you know I'm here if you change your mind.' He looked down at the table with a worried frown. 'Maybe I should stay in tonight...'

'Don't you dare!' Ed ordered, getting to his feet and reaching for his jacket. 'Go out with Claire, please? If Mustang has an assignment for me then I might not even be in town by this evening, You know how it is.' Ed glanced at the clock, hoping with all his heart that Al had not heard the faint edge in his words when he had said “Mustang”. 'I'll leave you a note if I'm going to be away.'

'Okay, brother. Be careful.' Al's voice was soft, but a vein of concern was still evident, and Ed looked over his shoulder with a reassuring smile.

'You too, Al. Have a good day.'

Ed grabbed his keys from the kitchen counter and made his way out of the apartment, breathing a sigh of relief when he stepped out onto the street. For a minute, he had thought Al would drag the truth out of him, and the last thing he felt like doing was exposing all of his confusion, even to his little brother. It was all too much of a mess, a twisted mystery of emotion that Ed could not even begin to solve, and even if he could, he was not sure he would like the answer.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he sauntered off down the street, in no hurry to get to Headquarters. So what if he was late? He could not bring himself to care. He'd had the whole damn weekend to puzzle over Mustang's actions and reactions: his longing kiss and his eventual, hushed apology almost like a rejection.

“I'm sorry. I can't have you.”

Not “won't” or even “don't want” but “can't”. Ed scowled, kicking at a pebble hard enough to crack it in two against a lamp-post. What kind of excuse was that? Ed could think of a few reasons why Mustang might feel that way – age, rank, reputation – but he had never imagined that Roy would let any of that get in the way of something he really wanted. A tiny doubt flickered in Ed's mind, making him wonder if it had been a gentle let-down. Perhaps Mustang had been acting all along...

No, that was ridiculous. Mustang was good at hiding his feelings, but both of those kisses had been bright white exposures. There had been nothing controlled or balanced about Roy's behaviour. It had been wild and almost shocking considering the guise Mustang seemed to wear at every other moment in his life.

If one kiss from Mustang broke Ed's brain and turned his insides to light, then what would sex be like?

Ed stopped on the pavement, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath as pure heat lanced along his nerves. Shivers hurried over his skin, but they had nothing to do with the chill in the air. His mouth had gone dry, and the memory of Mustang's lips on his was as vivid as reality. Swallowing tightly, Ed blinked his eyes open, running a hand through his hair. He thought it was bad before when all he'd had was his imagination, but now he knew Roy's taste, his scent, the feel of his body, and how was Ed meant to stand in front of him now and not reach out for what he wanted?

Eventually, he started walking again, hoping the breeze would calm the flush on his cheeks and take the edge off the hard burn of desire. It was tempting to turn left and head towards the library, to lose himself in the written word until Mustang demanded his presence again, but that seemed like the coward's way out. Besides, what did he have to be afraid of? Mustang was the one that had led him on and then turned him down. Of the two of them, shouldn't it be Roy who was dreading their next meeting?

The image of Mustang unsettled or discomfited in some way used to bring a vindictive kind of pleasure in its wake, but now all Ed could feel was a strange kind of angry sorrow. When it came down to it, he wanted Mustang to be happy. Wasn't that why he had walked away, rather than pushing Roy to explain himself further? He had seen Mustang's convoluted mix of hurt and need, want and doubt, and Ed hated being the cause of that painful confusion.

With a sigh, he looked up, realising he had traversed the streets of Central without noticing their passing. The cool white tower of Headquarters stood in front of him, windows blank and staring. The parade ground was bustling with soldiers, some marching through drills while others scurried about their duties, and Ed watched them for a few moments before squaring his shoulders and heading towards the office.

It was time to face the consequences of Friday night, and even though Ed had no idea what to expect, he doubted it would be a happy ending.

* * *

Roy sat behind his desk, staring blankly into his coffee mug. His eyes burned from exhaustion, and no amount of caffeine could replace three nights of broken sleep. He was no stranger to insomnia, but it had been years since dreams like _that_ had been the cause of the shadows under his eyes. Normally it was nightmares, the war and his sins that kept him awake, but this time it was visions of Ed and tumbled sheets, whispered moans and the hot, wet, alien flash of that pierced tongue that had driven Roy to distraction.

Clearly he was not used to unsatisfied passion; he did not remember any of his longings being this intense before. But then, it had been years since he had come up against someone that he could not have. The last time he had felt this way he could not have been much older than Ed was now, and that lust seemed like a pale shadow compared to the heat that washed through him.

He should never have kissed Fullmetal, that much was clear. It had been like opening the floodgates, and now Roy was drowning, fighting the current and reminding himself time and again that nothing good could come of giving into his need. There was no going back, either, no way to undo his moment of weakness, and he was not completely sure that he wanted to. As it was, he struggled to truly regret what he and Edward had shared. Yes, it was dangerous, both personally and professionally, but he could not bring himself to wish those kisses had never happened. How could he when, beneath the worried whine of his thoughts, he could hear the faint, heady song of something else – something he had not experienced for far too long?

Ed had struck some soft melody back to life within Roy's frame, and he doubted it would be easy to silence. It was not love, not yet, but it had the potential. In the same way that one note could begin a symphony, this strange feeling could strengthen and grow until it consumed him. Worse, it was unlikely to give him a choice in the matter. His logical mind was giving out orders, reasons and rationale, but his heart was not listening, and Roy was left torn between the two, wrecked and broken in no man's land.

On Friday night, he had told Ed that they could not have a relationship. There were many reasons, but the one Roy had not dared to voice was simple: he did not trust himself to keep Ed at a distance. That was the problem. Maes was always banging on about being friends first and lovers later, but Roy thought that made the stakes higher in a game where there were no winners. At least with someone he barely knew there was minimal risk. When they ended the relationship, the pain was insignificant and they could be forgotten – sometimes within a week. He would be left unscathed and life could carry on.

If it happened with Ed, if they began something and then broke up, as they were bound to eventually, Roy was not sure recovery would be possible. Ed would never let Roy keep any part of himself safe and out of reach if they were lovers. The brat was too vivid and passionate for that. Ed could very well storm into Roy's life and demand everything, and when it was over what would Roy have left unbroken to call his own? Besides, Roy thought, Ed already held too much of him in the palm of his hand. Unwittingly, he had hoarded Roy's attention and admiration, and now all Roy could do was draw the line and obey its boundary. He and Ed had shared two kisses, and that was where it would stop. End of story.

Roy's shoulders slumped in misery, and he rubbed his fingers against his forehead, wishing he were not so exhausted. His own convictions were hollow promises, and he had no doubt they would be impossible to keep. Now, alone, it was easy to say he would never touch Ed again, but what about when they were in one another's presence once more?

Fullmetal would be here soon, and when he walked through that door Roy had to be resolved. Ed would see any sign of weakness or doubt and apply the crowbar of his determination to it without hesitation. He did not know about compromise or letting something slide. Ed expected the truth, and loathed it when people held things back; he would push and push and keep on pushing until Roy caved under the pressure. He knew Ed too well to expect anything else. Except...

Roy blinked, frowning at some indeterminate point in front of his desk. When they met previously, Ed had not kept hammering at his defences. He had challenged Roy up to a point, but where Ed would previously have called Roy out, he had backed off. Surrender was not the right word for it, because Ed did not give in during any conflict, but he had pushed Roy just far enough and then walked away. At the time, Roy had not thought much of it – had been too wrapped up in his own hurt and confusion to notice what was happening – but now hindsight was giving him a perfect view.

Ed had left Roy alone, rather than slamming aside his excuses. He had respected Roy's decision, even if he thought it was bullshit, and that strange behaviour was enough to make something tense crawl up Roy's spine. Why would Ed do that? It made no sense. He had been incensed enough by the first kiss to follow Roy home and demand answers – to drive his point home with another display of affection as dazzling as the first – so why not keep going? What had made Ed back off?

'Sir?'

Roy blinked, looking up to see Hawkeye standing nearby. He had not even heard her come into the office. She was watching him with patient brown eyes, one eyebrow raised in faint disapproval. Belatedly, Roy realised he had not even touched the urgent file she had brought in twenty minutes ago, and he drew it towards himself as he reached for his pen. 'My apologies, Lieutenant. I'll get this to you in a few minutes.'

Hawkeye gave him an unreadable look, and he thought he saw the briefest glimmer of sympathy before he bowed his head and concentrated on reading. He must look as tired as he felt if he was garnering the lieutenant's pity, and he tried not to hunch under the weight of her watchful eye as he read the report and signed his name in the appropriate place.

'Thank you, sir.' Hawkeye took the file, glancing at the doorway as the unmistakable growl of Ed's voice carried through from the outer office. 'Shall I send Edward in?'

Panic shimmered through Roy's body, but he kept his face impassive as he nodded. It was not like he had much choice; ignoring Ed forever was not an option, and sooner or later he would have to face the young man again. Better to get it over with so that things could return to normal – or as close to normal as possible after what had happened.

He kept his eyes fixed on the papers in front of him, wondering if Ed would behave any differently. Would he be quieter now, subdued by Roy's refusal? Would he be angry still, or would the same cloud of disappointment linger over him as it did Roy, invisible but threatening all the same?

The bang of the door against the wall and back into its frame should not have made Roy jump: he was used to it after all these years, but he had foolishly thought Ed would at least be fractionally more meek than before. A quick scowl in the young man's direction proved to Roy how very wrong he was. There was nothing withdrawn about Edward. He stood in front of Roy's desk, bold, brazen and as confident as ever, and he met Roy's gaze without a flicker of anything except his usual half-angry respect.

'Got anything for me?' Ed's tone was innocent enough. There was nothing there to suggest those words were any kind of invitation, but he must have realised the potential double entendre because he cleared his throat, folding his arms to glare at Roy as he added, 'For work, I mean.'

Roy reached for a nearby file before holding it out for Ed, who took it by one corner as if it were a bomb about to go off, keeping well away from Roy's own gloved grasp on the dossier. Weakly, Roy relinquished the papers, glancing away rather than meeting Ed's eyes. 'Just some research for you here in Central. It should be fairly straight-forward.'

Ed gave a grunt, no doubt thinking of all the other simple assignments that had twisted themselves up in knots, and Roy risked a glance up at him. He was poring over the file as if there was nothing else in the world, open and unguarded in his concentration.

Now that he was free to watch Ed unobserved, Roy could see the faint shadows under his eyes and the lines in his face, and his stomach sank to think that he might be the cause of that subtle distress. When he had arrived at work this morning, Roy had been oddly grateful for the lack of assignments for Ed. Anything that involved travel would feel too much like sending him away, but now he wondered if Ed would have preferred the distance. He certainly looked like he would rather be anywhere than here. Even engrossed in the file he seemed a little too tense and edgy, and he was tapping that damn tongue stud – the cause of all their troubles – against his teeth again.

Heat shuddered through Roy's body, and he clenched his left hand into a fist on the surface of the desk. He knew what Ed tasted like, now. The memory of his body's warmth against Roy's was alarmingly real; he could even feel the echo of eyelashes fluttering closed against his cheek. He wanted to shift his weight, to get up from his chair and walk around the desk to catch Ed in his arms again, but Roy restrained himself. It was bad enough that he had lost control once before. He was not about to allow himself the luxury of another lapse. If nothing else, Ed deserved better than to be led on by the frantic see-saw of Roy's heart versus his mind.

'I guess I'll be in the library, then,' Ed said, and Roy blinked himself awake from his thoughts. He imagined Ed would be smug at having caught Roy staring at him, but instead there was a soft sadness in Ed's features that was more distressing for its unfamiliarity. All of Ed's emotions, from love to hate, seemed to burn hot, but there was only one word for what Roy could see in Ed's gaze: regret, pure and simple.

Roy knew how he felt.

'Dismissed, Fullmetal. I'll contact you if I find another assignment for you.' The words were like rock on his tongue, too heavy with professionalism, but he said them anyway and watched Ed walk away. The door closed behind him, not so much of a slam this time, and Roy found himself missing the sound. In that simple act there had been something strangely personal, a challenge between almost-friends, and now Roy wondered if that had gone forever.

Could he and Ed ever return to how they had been?

Part of him whispered: _Is that really what you want?_

* * *

Peace pressed down on Ed's ears, interrupted only by the occasional rustle of a turning page or the nervous cough of a reader. To him, the library was a sanctuary. Perhaps after all the years he had spent in here looking for the Stone it should smell of stress and desperation, but the paper and dust scent was something comforting. He had walked through the doors feeling wound up and on-edge, hurt all over again by the mess of emotion between him and Roy, but now that mood was soothed and blurred into something more manageable, at least for a while.

Rubbing his gloved fingertips over his chin, Ed tried to force himself to read. The studies Roy had given him were dry at best, and Ed had already realised a serious underlying flaw to the researcher's leaps of faith. With every hour the arrays he was putting forth looked less viable, and Ed was struggling to find a way to make them into something productive. The military hated finding out that their research budget had been spent on dud theories, and Ed had been handed this kind of thing before. More than once he had been able to turn crap research and rushed studies into something usable and even profitable for the military. Not that he got a cut of the money, of course.

Normally, he found it interesting, an intellectual challenge that let him stretch the adaptive limits of his alchemy, but today concentration was hard to come by. Every five minutes, Ed found himself staring into space, his mind back in Headquarters and dwelling on Roy. The bastard had looked tired, and although it was clear Mustang had tried to keep his expression neutral, Ed had seen the cracks in that mask. Part of him felt faintly vindicated that Roy was suffering, but mostly Ed just ached for him. The temptation to reach out and smooth away the lines of stress on Roy's face had been almost overwhelming, and Ed had found himself clenching his hands tight to resist the urge. It was not his place; Roy had made that clear.

Stupid git.

With an irritated sigh, Ed pushed aside his thoughts and focussed on the book once more. The clock on the wall ticked quietly as he became lost in the research. He was certain that alchemy should not be so soothing to him, but in a world of unpredictable humanity, the strict rules of transmutations were a welcome frame-work to flex and bend to his will, and he barely noticed the morning slip away into the lunch hour.

After a while, someone pulled out the chair opposite to him, and Ed glanced up, frowning as he saw Hughes settle comfortably in the seat. It was not often that Ed saw him in the library – he had people to hunt out the paperwork that the Intelligence department needed for their latest investigations – and Ed's heart sank as dread coiled beneath his ribs.

'So...' Hughes said quietly, meeting Ed's doubtful glare head on. His green eyes were bright with a different kind of intellect to Ed's, one that could understand human nature down to its roots, and Ed shifted his shoulders uncomfortably, looking down at his book to avoid his gaze. It was tempting to distract the man – mentioning Elysia would send him into a rapturous fugue for a while – but Hughes was persistent. Besides, as much as Ed hated to admit it, he was normally worth listening to, some of the time anyway.

'So what?' Ed asked quietly, scribbling another note down on the sheet of paper at his side. 'I'm busy.'

'You always are,' Hughes said, poking at one of the stacks of paperwork nonchalantly. 'I take it Roy didn't make you remove the tongue piercing?'

It was an innocent enough question, but that did not mean Ed was about to let his guard down. Hughes was a tricky man to deal with, and Ed was completely failing to get a read on his mood. 'How do you even know about that?' he asked, making sure to keep his voice low. The last thing he wanted was the librarians acting all high-and-mighty because he was making too much noise.

'All of Roy's command know. We spent several hours in the bar on Friday night going over the rule book trying to work out if it was acceptable or not.' Hughes' grin was quick and shark-like, and Ed got the distinct impression that every tiny flicker of his expression was being analysed for information.

'There's nothing in there. I checked before I got it done.' As soon as he said it, Ed realised that admission said far too much. Mustang might not have read much into it, but that sliver of knowledge in Hughes' hands was a dangerous thing, and the man knew it. He looked like an opponent who had just seen inevitable check-mate four moves ahead and was looking forward to victory.

'Don't get me wrong, Ed,' he replied, leaning forward and propping his elbows on the table between them, 'but I didn't think you even knew a rule book existed. I'm amazed you thought it through enough to look up the regulations. You're not normally so considerate.'

Ed scowled at that, but if Hughes noticed he did not seem perturbed; he simply kept watching Ed as if he could read everything off the back of his head. 'Is there a point to this?' Ed said at last, turning a page without bothering to read anything on it and wishing that Hughes would either say what he meant or leave.

'What happened between you and Mustang on Friday night?'

It took all of Ed's strength not to flinch or jerk, not to give Hughes a damn thing but a long, hard, cold glare. He had been so busy obsessing about the man's intelligence that he had forgotten to watch out for the irrefutably nosy side of Hughes' nature. Ed did not know why he was asking; he was Roy's best friend, but was he trying to get them together, keep them apart, or simply make sure he had all the information? Hughes would never see himself as interfering, but in that moment Ed was bristling at the intrusion. Didn't the words “private life” mean anything anymore?

Hughes moved his head, cocking it slightly to the side and narrowing his eyes. His fingers were curled over his mouth, although whether they were obscuring a smile or a grimace, Ed could not tell. The light winked off his spectacles as he breathed, and Ed wondered if there was any point in saying he had no idea what Hughes was talking about. After all, he had the alarming network of intelligence informants at his fingertips; there was an odds on chance he already knew – although if Ed ever found out the fucker was having him watched, he'd make someone pay.

In the end, he let his voice out in a growl, keeping his gaze locked firmly on Hughes' face. 'If Mustang wants to talk to you about it, that's his business, but I'm not telling you anything.'

'So there's something to tell?' Hughes waved a hand, casting aside his question with an apologetic smile. 'You're right. It's nothing to do with me. I had hoped...' He shook his head, his shoulders rising and falling as a sigh lifted his chest. 'It would have been nice to have found the both of you smiling today. Instead, Roy looks miserable and you –' Hughes frowned and Ed realised he might not be as transparent as he had first thought. 'You're not happy,' he finished lamely, running a hand through his hair and leaving tufts in his palm's wake.

For a short while, there was silence, and Ed stared at the papers in front of him unseeingly, only looking up when Hughes got to his feet. He stood besides his chair, frowning into the distant stacks of the library before meeting Ed's gaze, his jaw set and his brow cinched in a faint frown. 'I don't know the details of what happened, but I can guess. I just wish –' He hesitated, and shook his head before he muttered, 'Roy's a fool.'

Ed gave a weak huff of laughter. He was not about to argue on that, and maybe Hughes deserved that tiny bit of confirmation that if Ed had his way, he'd have made sure Roy had a grin on his face this morning.

'Do me a favour, Ed?' Hughes asked, smiling when Ed raised a questioning eyebrow. 'Whatever happened, don't give up on him yet. I'm pretty sure that whatever you two did on Friday night was impulsive on Roy's part – more about the heart than the brain. It's pretty rare that he acts on instinct, but when he does it's normally for the best.' Long fingers drummed an idle rhythm on the back of the chair as Hughes gave him a wistful look. 'He just needs time to figure it out, that's all.'

Ed watched Hughes, trying to work out if this was anything other than a false hope, but all he could see was earnest honesty in those green eyes. Hughes believed what he was saying, even if Ed had his doubts.

At last, he gave a silent nod: a fraction of agreement. Clearly that was all the answer Hughes needed, because he clasped Ed's shoulder gently.

'Thank you.'

'For waiting for the bastard?' Ed asked.

Hughes grinned, fast and bright like a lightning strike. 'For proving me right,' he replied, as cryptic as ever. 'Don't work too hard, Ed, and I'll see you later.' With a wave of farewell, he sauntered away with his hands in his pockets, whistling softly under his breath until he was out of sight and earshot, leaving Ed to sink further into the darkness of his mood.

He wanted to believe that Hughes knew what he was talking about – that Roy would change his mind and make something of the false start that lingered between them, but Ed suspected it was nothing but wishful thinking. Whatever Mustang's reasons were for saying “no”, they were nothing simple or straightforward. Ed had felt the strength of desire in those kisses, and knew that it was a powerful kind of doubt that had made Roy step back.

Telling Hughes he would give Roy time was one thing, but part of Ed's pride stung at the thought of putting his life on hold for the hope of one day. There were plenty of other people out there, but even as he thought it he knew they would not be enough. Perhaps they could bring him temporary relief and companionship, but he knew from experience that satisfying lust would not ease the hollow emptiness in his chest.

His heart had set itself on Roy, and nothing could change that.

* * *

It had been an endless Monday, filled with the monotony of paperwork and the petty frustrations of the military. Normally, Roy shouldered the burden of his duties and soldiered on, but today it had been almost too much to bear. The heaviness in his heart dragged him down as remorse sat stone-heavy in his gut, so real it hurt. Every limb felt leaden, and his head was bowed beneath the mass of his thoughts. All day he had forced himself to concentrate, and with every passing hour, the litany of logic versus desire had grown in volume.

Now, he dragged himself out of his office, pulling his coat off the rack and dumping the last file on Hawkeye's desk. Everyone else had already gone home, eager to draw Monday to a close, but Roy knew simple location would make no difference to the way he felt. His inner turmoil would follow him wherever he went, and all he could do was try to bear it.

With a sigh, he shut the door behind him and turned the key in the lock before heading down the corridor. He wanted to lay the blame for the way he felt at someone else's feet, but Roy knew it was all his own fault. _He_ had kissed Ed, and _he_ had been the one to turn around afterwards and say a relationship was impossible. Even Ed, so closely involved, was an innocent party, and all Roy could do was clench his jaw and cling to his reasons as his entire being whined and whimpered.

The cool afternoon air brushed his cheek as he stepped out of headquarters, and Roy hesitated at the top of the steps, relishing its touch. Briefly, it eased the weight on his shoulders, making him feel something like human once more. However, the respite was fleeting, and he let out a sigh before trudging downwards and stepping out onto the parade ground, barely noticing Maes until he fell into step at his side.

'You're an idiot.'

Roy had been called far worse things over the years by his friend, but never in that flat, dead tone. A quick sideways glance made Roy's heart sink; he had known Maes for far too long to think that his statement was unrelated to the whole Ed fiasco, and the stubborn line of his friend's jaw and the scowl on his face spoke volumes. He had taken it upon himself to meddle, and Roy hoped, rather than believed, that Maes had not already spoken to Ed about Friday night.

'So you know about it then?' he asked heavily as a briar of betrayal wove between his ribs. He should have known better than to think he could trust Ed to keep this between them, and perhaps there was the evidence he had been looking for to silence his aching heart. He might have faith in Ed as a soldier, but as a lover, privy to every secret flaw and weakness?

No. Perhaps he had done the right thing after all.

'I know you made a mess of _something_ ,' Maes grumbled, stopping and folding his arms across his chest, waiting for Roy to pause a few paces ahead and face him. 'Ed wouldn't tell me anything, and if he had I'd have thought less of him for it, but I got nothing from him except the distinct impression that it's your fault the two of you are so miserable today.'

'He really didn't tell you?' Roy asked, swallowing hard as he realised that his words were laden with a mix of doubt and pathetic hope. Maes would latch onto that like a leech. Quickly, he cleared his throat and turned away, keeping his voice flat and professional. 'I had no idea that Fullmetal could be so discreet.'

It was tempting to stride away, but Roy knew Maes would simply follow him home and keep turning up like a bad penny until he'd had his say. They had not become so close without a lot of persistence on Maes' part, and Roy doubted he would give up now. A moment later, he was proved right as Maes closed the distance and walked at his side with a slow, thoughtful pace that let Roy know there was something on his friend's mind.

Once they were out of the parade ground, beyond earshot of the sentries and into the bustle of Central, Maes spoke again, barely louder than a murmur so that Roy had to cock his head to listen. 'You're not fooling anyone, you know. It's obvious something happened between the two of you, and for some reason you decided it could go no further.' Maes sighed sadly, and Roy struggled not to do the same. 'I thought – I don't know.' He shrugged, waving a hand in emphasis. 'I thought you'd come up with some rubbish about the military or your career or what other people would think, but that's not it at all, is it?'

'What makes you say that?' Roy asked, putting his hands in his pockets so that Maes could not see him clenching them into tight, miserable fists as he feigned interest in the crowd around them. 'Those are all valid concerns. The brass would never look kindly on us being together, and neither would society.' He scowled, speaking in a toneless voice as he reiterated the hurdles in the path of his and Ed's potential relationship. 'He's almost half my age and has been under my command and influence for most of his formative years; there is no way people could look at those facts and not think –' Roy shook his head, knowing he did not need to finish that sentence. Maes could fill in the blanks.

'Every damn person that matters would know the truth.' Maes shook his head, pursing his lips as he narrowed his eyes. 'Perhaps it would make it more difficult to achieve your goal, but then maybe not: A little controversy can go a long way to keeping your name at the top of the pile and in the minds of the people. Have you thought of that?'

'For god's sake, Ed's not a publicity shot!' Roy snarled, unable to edit the passion out of those words before they spilled past his lips. Maes smiled at him as if he had just passed some kind of test, and Roy frowned. He hated being out-manoeuvred, and he brought his voice back into more normal tones as he asked, 'What exactly are you trying to get at, Maes?'

'Whatever happened between you, it's got nothing to do with those “valid concerns”. We both know none of those things would be enough to stop you, so there's another reason you won't be sharing your bed with Ed tonight.' Maes scuffed the soles of his boots along the pavement, creating a rasping harmony to the city sounds. 'Are you going to tell me what it is, or do I have to start guessing?'

Roy hunched his shoulders, glaring at his walking feet as he muttered, 'Can't you just accept that it's done?' he asked hopelessly. 'The decision's been made; that's all you need to know.'

'Maybe if you weren't both so clearly hurting I would let it slide, but you can't tell me this is for the best. It doesn't seem to benefit anyone! Neither of you are happy with the way it's turned out.' Maes stopped at Roy's side, grabbing at his sleeve to bring him to a halt. 'I'm not asking for the intimate of details of what happened. I just want to know why, Roy. If you can't explain it to me, then how good a reason can it really be?'

Roy knew that Maes had him on that point, and he looked away across the street, watching a laughing couple saunter up the pavement on the opposite side as he tried to find the words. 'I'm afraid,' he admitted in a whisper, so quiet that Maes stepped closer to hear him better. 'I wasn't expecting to feel the way I did. A kiss should just be a kiss, but it was like...' He shook his head, falling silent as he kept staring into the middle-distance, unwilling to meet Maes' gaze. 'I realised that Ed could be important to me if I gave him the chance, and that's not an option.'

'Why the hell not?' Maes asked, his voice hushed and fierce. 'Why won't you give yourself a shot at happiness?'

'Because it could never be permanent! Ed would leave eventually, and where would I be then?' He scrubbed a hand over his eyes, trying not to show how much the very thought of that hurt. 'I kissed him on Friday thinking he would be nothing special. Within moments I knew we could have something great for a while, something more than just sex, but do you seriously think he'd still be around after a year or two?'

Maes gave him the kind of look that made Roy feel phenomenally stupid, raking his fingers through his brown hair and rolling green eyes in annoyance. 'It amazes me how blind you can be, sometimes. Do you not pay attention to the people around you? Have you not noticed that Ed's loyal to a fault? Not just to his brother or his best friend, but to all of us!' With an irritated noise, Maes let his hands fall to his side. 'To answer your question, I think that Ed would stay with you for a lifetime if you let him, but you won't even give him a chance. For once, you've found a partner who is honestly looking out for you first. He's not some simpering, vapid thing on your arm or someone with one eye on your reputation. He knows you almost as well as I do, and he's still around, isn't he?'

'That's not the point...'

'Then what is, Roy?' Maes demanded, rough-voiced with frustration. 'Being afraid is normal. Love isn't some kind of pre-arranged strategy; it's not prefabricated perfection. It's a gamble from start to end; if you're lucky you'll keep winning, but if you won't even play the game then you're going to lose.' Maes put his hands on his hips, fixing Roy with a long, hard glare. 'I know you've been burned in the past and you're just trying to protect yourself from future pain – and it's saying a lot that you think Ed could hold your heart long enough to break it – but it's going to hurt you more if you don't even try.'

When Roy remained silent, Maes bowed his head, shoulders slumping as he breathed out a sigh of defeat. 'Fine. Like you said, you've made your decision. For your sake, I hope it's the right one. Goodnight, Roy.'

He went to turn away, and panic hit Roy like a punch. As much as he hated to admit it, Hughes had saved him from making more mistakes than he cared to count. 'Wait!' Roy swallowed, shutting his eyes for a moment as the word rang out in the empty street. When he opened them again, Maes was watching him from an expressionless face. 'What would you do if you were in my position, Maes? Can you really look me in the eye and say you'd have the guts to risk it?'

Without missing a beat, his friend turned to face him again, his gaze bright and focussed as he squared his shoulders. 'Of course I would. I already did. Perhaps Gracia and I did not face quite the same kind of issues, but all love's about facing that fear: putting yourself in someone else's hands and hoping they don't hurt you.' A sympathetic smile settled on his lips, and he flicked Roy a brief wave goodbye. 'I can't make the choice for you, Roy, but you should know that if you want to, it's not too late to change your mind.'

'How do you know that?' Roy asked quietly as his heart was clenched in an invisible velvet fist, hot and fierce beneath his ribs.

Maes pushed his glasses up his nose, the lenses winking in the dying light as he spoke in a soft voice. 'Because even though he's hurting, Ed's eyes still light up when someone says your name. Are you sure you don't want to see how far that could go?'

'I – I don't know.' Roy bit his lip, frowning at the pavement as his mind raged against the battle cries of his heart. He could barely breathe for the feeling in his chest, and his whole body pulsed with too many emotions to count. 'I'll think about it. I can't promise more than that.'

'Yeah, well don't take too long.' Maes turned away, his hand lifted in farewell as his parting words lingered behind. 'No matter how much he loves you, Ed won't wait forever.'

'Wait, what?' Roy's voice went hoarse in his throat as he stared at his friend, barely able to hear his own thoughts over the cacophony of his heart. 'Ed _what_?'

Hughes laughed, a soft, fond sound of happiness as he turned to walk away, calling his answer over his shoulder. 'You heard me the first time, Roy. Now you just need to work out what you're going to do about it! '

* * *


	3. Kill The Cat

The past few days had been hard on everyone in the office; Roy's black mood bled outwards, spreading like a disease until everyone was quiet and restrained, confused by the invisible shadows that lingered in the air but unable to ignore their sickly presence. He tried to control it, but there was no disguising the bruise-like marks of exhaustion under his eyes or the way the closest thing to a smile he could manage was a wreck of a grimace. Sometimes he thought Hawkeye should shoot him; at least that would put him out of his misery.

Roy had not seen Ed since Monday morning and had barely slept for more than a couple of hours a night since Hughes' quiet, certain revelation that same evening. His best friend's words, well-intentioned as they were, only added to his confusion, and every time Roy's head touched the pillows his thoughts sped up from a steady spin into a vortex of conflicting desires and reservations, tearing apart any sleep that came his way.

_'Ed loves you...'_

A year ago, Roy would have laughed at such a statement, but now? Now there was nothing funny about it. Part of his mind kept fiercely reminding him that Maes saw the world through rose-tinted spectacles. The man believed in the limitless power of love – thought it could make bad people good and the depressed happy – regardless of evidence to the contrary. Maes would never deliberately lie to Roy, not about something like this, but that did not mean there was anything concrete to his statement.

Except that what Maes had told him made sense. On Friday night, when Roy had kissed Ed and the brat had followed him home to demand his answers, there had not been a fight. At least, not the kind that Roy expected. Ed had respected his decision – had walked away – and that was so un-Ed-like that Roy was left baffled.

That was not the only hint that Roy could bring to mind, either. He had been through enough relationships gone bad and false-starts to know that infatuation could soon become anger. Rejection of any kind normally resulted in retaliation, either through avoidance or confrontation, but in the office on Monday Ed had done nothing to lash out or punish Roy. He had just looked at him hopelessly, regretful and hurting. Roy doubted that, if the positions were reversed, he would have been able to behave with such maturity.

No, if he stifled the gibbering wail of his uncertainty and really _looked_ at Ed's behaviour and reactions, Roy could see what had caught Maes' attention. Perhaps he was not certain, maybe there were doubts, but he could almost believe it: Ed loved him.

The very thought sent his heart soaring to impale itself on the razorwire of his misgivings, and Roy groaned out loud, tunnelling his fingers into his hair and digging his nails into his scalp as he wished someone would just make the decision for him. He wanted Ed and everything he could offer. It could be so, _so_ good if they got it right, but...

There was always a “But”, and Roy could weep at the unfairness of his cowardice. The grim prospect of how seriously everything could fall apart was like a spiteful ghost tainting everything with its touch. It could ruin him, and increasingly over the past couple of days Roy had wondered what would become of Ed if they were to spend time together only to break up at a later date. If Ed loved him like this, reserved and at a distance, how intense could that feeling be if it were acknowledged and allowed to grow? The prospect was both thrilling and terrifying, and Roy was left stretched out on a rack of his own making, pulled in too many directions by his own inner conflict.

Something clanked on his desk, and he looked up to see a mug of steaming coffee sitting on the polished wood. Not the poor excuse for a drink that normally filled the office carafe but something hot, flavoured with cinnamon and probably laden with caffeine. Lifting his eyes upwards, Roy saw Hawkeye standing patiently in front of him. Behind her, the office door was closed, and he could hear the end of the day approaching: Havoc clearing out his ashtray and Fuery clattering as he tidied away his tools. The lieutenant had her hands folded neatly in front of her, and everything from her stance to the hint of softness in her eyes told Roy she had something personal to say.

'Permission to speak freely, sir?'

That was a formality. Roy had no doubt that if he said no, Hawkeye would turn and walk away, but she would communicate her thoughts through other means. It was better to get whatever it was out of the way, and he nodded his aching head, reaching out for the coffee and taking a sip as she began.

'It's too late to protect yourself from heartbreak; anyone can see it's already happened.'

She said it with her usual authority, straight to the point like a bullet finding its target, and Roy almost flinched at the accuracy of her statement. There was a challenging edge to her expression, as if she expected him to deny it. The words had even lined themselves up on his tongue, mocking and dismissive, but the lie choked itself as the hollow ache in his chest squeezed itself into a fist.

Most women would have tried to sugar-coat it, would have told a story of their own experience in an effort to relate, but not Riza. She knew how to communicate for maximum effect, and she had never been interested in protecting Roy's feelings or pandering to his ego. When she thought he was being an idiot, she said so, just like Hughes.

Roy took another sip of the coffee, feeling chills crawl over his skin as the hot drink pooled in his stomach. 'Does everyone in the office know about my private life?' he asked quietly, glancing over Hawkeye's shoulder towards the closed door and frowning in consternation. He trusted his men and knew they would be discreet, but they were all as bad as each other when it came to meddling. The last thing he needed was everyone sticking their oar into his and Ed's business.

'We all have eyes, sir,' Hawkeye replied, a faint smile curving her lips. 'Some of us use them better than others, of course.' That was a pointed comment, and Roy stared into his coffee as Hawkeye continued. 'None of us will speak of it again if you so wish, but your happiness is important, sir, and you cannot look me in the eye and tell me you're content with the way things are.'

Roy was too bruised and stretched out thin by his emotions to bother with any kind of mask today. There was no point in asking how Hawkeye knew about him and Ed. Perhaps she had talked to Hughes, but it was more than likely she had figured it out for herself. She watched people and saw the details of every interaction between them. That, coupled with a frankly disturbing knowledge of Roy's nature meant she had probably reached the right conclusion without any outside help.

'So you think I made a mistake?' he asked, hoping she would deduce the specifics from his vague statement. He had not missed the fact that she had not mentioned Ed's name. The chances of his office being bugged were slim, but he did not want to chance it.

She did not answer straight away, and Roy tried not to cringe beneath her steady scrutiny. He did not know what she was searching for in his expression, but she clearly found something as she let her breath out in the faintest of sighs. 'I believe you made the logical decision, sir, but that doesn't mean it was the right choice.' She reached out with nimble fingers to collect the files on his desk into a neat pile and return the pens to their rightful place. 'My opinion, though, is not the one that matters. In the end, you're the only person who can determine the best path of action: proceed as you are and hope that things improve with time, or turn around and try to make something good out of what you've been offered.'

The answer was there beneath his ribs, hammering out with the beat of his heart and burning the tip of his tongue, and he clenched his jaw as he glanced away from her inquisitive gaze, studying the sullen fire in the grate. He had spent so long tearing this issue apart in his head that now it lay in shreds, tattered pieces of the bigger picture. Yet when taken down to that simple question, there was no doubt.

'What if it goes wrong?' he whispered, seeing Hawkeye raise her eyebrows out of the corner of his eyes. Looking at her more fully, he realised it was not surprise that moulded her expression, but something akin to exasperation laced with a hint of pride.

'Then it goes wrong, sir, but the outcome is not pre-ordained. It's in the hands of those involved.' She smiled, keeping her voice frank as she added, 'Perhaps it's wrong to say that you would be in control, but you would not be powerless.'

Roy leaned back in his chair, cradling the mug of coffee in his hands as he watched Hawkeye pick up a couple of dossiers and check his signature. As a rule, she was not prone to sentimentality, and her words were delivered with a sharp professionalism. Still, that did not affect the underlying truth of her advice, and Roy shut his eyes as he felt something shift in the chaos of his thoughts and emotions.

'Thank you, Lieutenant,' he said quietly. 'I needed to hear that.'

Hawkeye nodded, clasping the files to her chest as she turned away and strode towards the door. Roy could tell she knew when her job was done, and a faint smile struggled onto his face as she hesitated at the threshold, looking over her shoulder. 'Why don't you finish your coffee and head home, sir? A good night's sleep might help clear your head.'

With that final statement, she departed, shutting the door behind her and leaving Roy in the peace of the office. The coffee mug was still warm in his hands, and he curved his fingers around it as he observed the slowing spin of his thoughts.

There was no denying her accusation: his decision to walk away from Ed had already left him feeling broken through-and-through. He had tried to protect himself, and the result was this – exhaustion, pain, and a hollow, heavy ache in his chest that never eased. Even before Hawkeye's advice, the equilibrium within him had started to tip. Logic had begun to flag beneath the simple assault of overwhelming emotion, but now he could feel some kind of decision emerging from the mist of confusion.

For the first time in days, Roy felt his strength return. Gone was the melancholy lethargy, and he straightened up, gulping back the last of his coffee and getting to his feet. A glance at the clock told him it was almost five in the afternoon. Ed would probably still be in the library, and Roy's stomach thrashed wildly as his heart thundered on in a frantic race.

From the moment he had kissed Ed on Friday night, Roy realised that every thought and feeling he'd had lingered in the realm of the selfish. He was too concerned with his thoughts, his fears, his uncertainty to realise that it was Ed who could successfully ease his fears. Hawkeye was right, Roy was far from powerless, but the control in any relationship was something shared.

He had to talk to Ed.

 

* * *

A cool breeze lifted Ed's hair back from his face, rushing across his skin and filling his lungs with the sweet tang of Central's afternoon. It felt like a breath of life after the dry, dusty monotony of the library, and he tipped his head back in brief surrender as he paused by one of the giant stone lions that flanked the steps.

There was only so much book-lined tranquillity even he could take, and hour upon hour, day upon day had whittled itself away as he immersed himself in books and theories, trying to draw some sense out of the work Roy had given him. He was close, now; he could almost taste the moment of revelation, but it remained tantalisingly beyond his reach, held at bay by the sluggish ooze of his emotions.

Ed wrinkled his nose, opening his eyes and trotting down the steps before strolling along the pavement. He was in no hurry to sequester himself inside again. Four walls and a roof had their place, but right now Ed felt so trapped by every thought that crossed his mind that he longed for green space and fresh air. Maybe, if he could put a bit of distance between himself and the towering buildings of the city, then there was a chance that he could begin to make some sense of everything: not just the alchemy, but Roy.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Ed glanced up at a nearby clock tower. Birds circled its spire, fly-small at this distance, but Ed could still make out the hands on that gigantic face. It was almost five o'clock; close enough to the end of the day that he did not need to go back to the office. Part of him pinched with disappointment, but he shoved it ruthlessly aside, trying to keep his mind clear as he turned the corner and headed towards one of Central's parks. If he started thinking again now, he would end up going around in circles again. He just needed to clear his head, that was all – get some space and maybe all the little pieces would start to fall into place. It was a weak hope, but Ed clung to it like a lifeline as he made his way through the city.

The park was only a few minutes' walk away, and Ed could hear the sound of laughing children over the occasional grumble of a car. He followed the haunting sound, and breathed a sigh of relief when the gates came into sight.

Ed had never thought he would miss Risembool, but sometimes the need to see something green, rather than whitewashed walls or grey stone monstrosities, became overwhelming. The best thing about this particular park was its size. It was more than a lawn and flowerbeds. Trees made boulevards below their overhanging branches and clustered together in copses. There were fountains and fish-filled pools, strange little temples and above all, there was a sense of lingering peace. The park stretched out in a big, green scar through Central's urban sprawl, and Ed's body hummed with relief as he felt the tension in his muscles begin to slip away.

Almost as soon as he slipped through the gates, he headed off the beaten track, watching the damp grass deposit smears of water on his boots as he headed for the trees. The weather might be cool, but there were still plenty of other people here, and the last thing Ed felt like was company. He had been here enough times to know where he was going, and it was not long before he heard the faint splash of water over stones.

Rounding a corner in the cobble-worn path, Ed saw the little waterfall pouring itself from one pool to another before it flowed onwards in a wavering creek. People threw money in it and made wishes, and the bright gleam of new copper made the tiny river look a bit like fire in the right light. It was quiet at this time of day, and Ed sat astride one of the little stone benches, staring at the crystal churn of the water and the wavering faces of the coins in its depths.

Here, surrounded by the quiet sounds of the birds in the trees and the playful tease of the wind amidst the leaves, it was more tolerable to let his thoughts gain volume and speed. Ed had spent days pouring his mental energy into arrays and alchemy, and it was like running into a gale, exhausting and draining; now he surrendered himself to the inevitable flow of his mind back towards Roy.

Ed missed him, which was ridiculous. There was nothing acknowledged between them to create such a feeling of loss, yet Ed kept remembering tiny details, like the way he signed documents with a flourish or the fall of that dark hair over deep blue eyes. He remembered the exact tang of his scent and the hot, wet lap of his tongue, and the memory made desire clench, fist-tight and desperate, in the pit of Ed's stomach.

Letting out a shuddering breath, Ed drew one knee up to his chest and leant his cheek against it as he scowled at the brook in front of him. If he was honest with himself, he did not simply crave the obviously erotic when it came to Roy. Ed wanted to see the smiles he knew lay beneath that serious mask. He wanted to see Roy happy, and he wanted to be the cause of that joy, rather than the annoyance or exhaustion that seemed to mar Roy's features in their meetings. Perhaps sometimes he saw a glimmer of pride, but until the night he and Roy kissed, that had been it.

He had not laid eyes on Mustang since Monday, and now it was, what? Tuesday? Wednesday? Ed shook his head at himself, knowing how easily he lost track of time in the library. Perhaps it was only a day or two, but it felt like years. Part of Ed wanted to scurry back to the office to check on Mustang – to see if the hopeless remorse that had stamped its way over his face had faded or if it lingered still – but what could Ed say? He had nothing new to tell Roy about the assignment, and anything else had no place being discussed in military headquarters.

It was tempting to catch Roy at home, to push his way in and get the answers he needed, but it was not that easy. Ed had thought he had been doing Roy a favour by not questioning his reasons, by biting his tongue and walking away, but it had not taken long for Ed to realise his mistake. Rejection was hard enough without going into the details – perhaps that was part of why he had not pushed Roy for answers – but ignorance was hell, not bliss. Ever since that night, Ed had been dragged inexorably back to the whys. There were logical excuses, professional and social, but in the middle of the night his insecurities had the loudest voices, and Ed woke up every morning feeling sick to his stomach. When it came down to it, Roy had said nothing to excuse himself, and Ed was left imagining the worst.

With a quiet groan, Ed pressed his palm to his forehead, wishing he could dig his fingers into his head and smother his thoughts to silence, but it was useless. He could not stop thinking about Roy, those kisses, and the heavy, hot potential of what lingered between them. The more he considered it, the more Ed realised that he did not have the strength to remain in the grey world of someone else's indecision.

Hughes had told him to give Roy time, but the truth was simple: Ed could not move on if he wanted to, not without knowing for certain why Roy had said “no”. The bastard could not hide what they had both felt, as bright and vivid as a lightning strike, and Ed could not ignore it, either. He could not carry on as if nothing had happened, not without getting the chance to speak his mind.

Perhaps that would be the nail in the coffin of anything they could have together, that one demand. Maybe in forcing Roy to put his reasons into words, Ed would inadvertently push Roy even further away, but the alternative was not something he could bear.

Ed dropped his leg, bracing his palms on the bench as he stared sightlessly into the rippling water before him. His stomach and heart seemed to be connected, clenching and releasing in the same painful uncertainty, and Ed sighed as he moved stiffly to his feet, stretching out the kinks in his body as he glanced towards the setting sun. It was not far above the horizon now, filling the world with dying light, and Ed's belly grumbled a complaint of hunger as his mind put forth a meagre plan.

He would go home, force some dinner down his throat and then head for Mustang's place. He had given Roy all the time he could. Others might have waited weeks or months for the great Mustang, but Ed could not do that to himself. One way or another, he needed a final answer from Roy.

Ed's hands tightened in his pocket, and he felt something metallic slip between his fingers and into his left palm. Dragging it out, he opened his hand to see a coin winking at him, bright and cheerful. It was one of the new ones, so dazzling it looked fake, and Ed glanced back towards the pool, already gleaming copper with a shoal of its own wealth.

He did not believe in wishes; to Ed, it was a step down from praying, and neither worship nor desperate hope had done him any good in the past. Then again, maybe tonight he needed all the help he could get. Shutting his eyes, he flicked the coin up and over his shoulder, listening to it splash musically into the pool, but even as the words of his wish faded from his mind, Ed felt stupid – like a pond full of Cens could do anything for him.

Shrugging his coat more comfortably onto his shoulders, Ed walked away, never once looking back as he picked his way towards home. There was something like relief in making a decision and taking action, but that did nothing to stop the thrash of nerves that twisted through Ed's body, making him shudder as the wind took on a biting edge.

Slipping out of the park gates, he turned left, keeping his head ducked as he made his way back towards the apartment, weaving through the after-work crowds and darting across the roads between the traffic. Store bells chimed as the shopkeepers locked up for the night, and the smell of cooking food, alcohol and smoke wafted along the pavement as the restaurants and bars opened their doors to the dinnertime rush. Ed walked past them all, too consumed by his thoughts to pay attention to the chatter and life all around him.

It was only when he turned onto his street that he glanced up, blinking himself back to reality, and what he saw made his heart slam hard into his ribs. Someone stood by the front door of his apartment, lounging with casual confidence against the wall. For a split-second, Ed thought it was Roy, and his entire body sang with eager happiness, only to jolt into silence as Ed realised his mistake.

The man was not wearing a military uniform, and as he stepped away from the dusky shelter of the building, Ed realised that the hair and eyes were brown, rather than black and blue. He was in his late-twenties, and familiar in a way that made the joy in Ed's heart flick with dizzying speed to dark, hot anger.

Ed did not bother to hide his snarl as he stopped and stared at his ex-lover Mark. The wedding band was as bold as brass around his finger and the smile on his lips beguiling in all the wrong ways. 'What the hell do you want?'

Mark shrugged, running a hand through his hair and trying out a disarming smile that would have been more effective if it weren't for the predatory twist to his lips. 'I wanted to talk, that's all. About us.'

'There is no “us”,' Ed snapped, side-stepping him and heading for the door, jaw tight and every muscle screaming for a fight. 'Fuck off, Mark. I've got nothing to say to you.'

'Hey, shut up and listen, will you. Come on, Ed!'

The instant those fingers caught the sleeve of his coat, he spun around, not bothering to keep his own fury in check as he snatched himself free. Arrays flickered in Ed's mind, but he forced away the tempting tune of alchemy, trying to remember that Mark was just a civilian, one with a wife who probably would miss the cheating piece of shit if Ed ground him into bits. Yet the anger was so close to the surface, and all the emotion of the last few days was all too eager to twist itself up into a volatile kind of rage.

'No! You lied to me, hid the fact you had a fuckin' wife and now, what, you think I'm not going to care?'

'I'm not hiding it now. Look she's – we're –' Mark stopped, but the wretched look on his face was a sorry attempt at anything genuine. 'What does it matter, anyway?'

Ed gritted his teeth, trying to remember how to breathe as the fury choked him. Ed did not know what enraged him more, that Mark was so callous about the woman he'd sworn his life to, or that Ed himself had been too stupid to work out the truth before they'd had sex. 'It matters because you didn't give me a choice. You fucked me and hurt her in the process, and now you stand there thinking I'm ever going to touch you again?' Ed shook his head, hands clenched into fists so tight that the fingernails of his left cut into his palm. 'Fuck off, Mark, before I do her a favour and put you out of your fuckin' misery.'

'Aw, come on, Ed...'

'Major Elric told you to leave,' a calm voice said. 'I suggest you do as he asks.'

The red haze of Ed's anger drained away, and his body went cold as he turned to see Roy standing a short distance away. He was as cool and collected as ever, giving Mark all of his attention and sparing none for Ed. His gloves were on his hands, the arrays dazzling red in the street-lamps, and his expression was flawlessly controlled. Whatever Roy was feeling, it was well-hidden; Ed could not see any hints of anything, but lank nausea settled like a rock in his stomach as his thoughts went deathly still, wiped blank except for one word that echoed back and forth in his head.

Shit.

 

* * *

The stranger was giving Roy a look of deep distrust, his mouth twisted in a half-sneer. Roy could practically hear him thinking _“Just another soldier”_ until those brown eyes came to rest on Roy's gloves. It was almost amusing to watch his face take on the mottled colour of anger and uncertainty, and Roy watched the man – Mark, Ed had called him – flick a glance in Ed's direction, only to be met with a loathing glare.

When Roy had ambled here from the library, he had hoped to find Ed alone. Instead the sight of another man so close to him, leaning into the younger man's personal space as if he belonged there, had almost given Roy a heart attack. It had taken a huge effort to drag aside the veils of bitter shock and pain – emotions he had no right to feel in the first place – and actually _see_ Ed's lethal rage and the twist of anger on the other man's face. It was no lover's tryst he was intruding upon, but something practically humming with the kind of hate that only sprung from broken trust.

Roy noticed the wedding band, and something clawed at his stomach, vicious and feral. It did not take a genius to work out the likely scenario that had played itself out. No doubt Mark had lied to Ed about being single; the alternative, that Ed had willingly allowed himself to be put in the middle of marriage, was simply impossible to believe.

'You're still here,' Roy pointed out, trying to ignore the aching need to snap his fingers. His knuckles felt like granite, and he could feel the subtle rasp of fabric against his fingertips. In reality, he was relatively powerless to do anything to make Mark leave, but intimidation, when used right, could go a very long way.

He could practically see the accusations and abuse flashing behind Mark's eyes, but the man was not a complete idiot. Stupid enough to try and talk Ed back into something he clearly did not want to do, but not so dumb that he could not tell the fight was lost.

'I'm going. I thought maybe you'd changed your mind, Ed, but obviously not.' He shot Roy a venomous look, and Roy struggled not to smirk. He had not come here intending to see off a rival, but there was something gratifying about watching Mark walk away, head bent and shoulders hunched. There was no longing look over his shoulder at Ed, and Roy would bet anything it was Mark's pride that hurt more than his heart.

Cautiously, Roy glanced over at Ed, feeling the warmth of his confidence flee as those golden eyes watched Mark vanish out of sight. For a moment, Roy wondered if he had made a mistake and completely misjudged the situation, but one look at the hard, tense line of Ed's jaw and shoulders was enough to put his mind at rest. Ed's expression was ruthless – he was watching Mark to make sure he left, not wishing that he would stay.

At last, those aureate eyes turned back to Roy, and he fought not to shift back beneath the intensity of Ed's expression, which even now bordered on a glare. Of course, Ed would not be grateful for Roy's interference; that had never been Roy's angle. It was instinct that had made him intercede between Mark and Ed – one that Roy did not want to analyse too closely – but he did know one thing for certain: even if Ed tore him to pieces for his intrusion, he would not have done anything differently.

Except that Roy was used to reading the play of emotions across Ed's face, and he knew the tell-tale spark of true annoyance well. The expression on Ed's face was wretched and guilty. He was trying to hide it, but failing miserably, and Roy frowned in confusion. He could see the rage that had hummed beneath Ed's skin starting to ebb, and now the young man was almost shaking, looking at Roy as if he was expecting some kind of censure or disgust.

'Are you all right?' Roy's voice was rougher with concern than he had intended, but hiding anything from Ed at this point was useless. He wanted to reach out and touch him, to pull Ed into his arms and soothe away his blatant distress, but Roy doubted his attention would be welcomed. Instead he could only stand there, his heart sinking as Ed remained silent, and dark, dangerous thoughts fluttered across Roy's mind. 'If he laid a finger on you...' Roy trailed off, realising how ridiculous he sounded. 'If he'd touched you, I imagine he'd be a smear on the street.'

Ed gave a bitter little huff of laughter, shoulders slumping as if he were dropping some kind of huge burden. His jaw tensed again for a moment, but then he looked up at Roy with yellow eyes, lips twisted in a self-depreciating grimace. 'Thanks, Mustang.'

'For what?' Roy asked lightly, knowing he was walking the high-wire of Ed's temper. The anger was still there, simmering now, but close to the surface and liable to erupt at the slightest provocation. If Ed thought that Roy was patronising him, or worse, trying to protect him from physical harm, then Roy suspected the leviathan of rage would reawaken.

'For getting him to leave before I smashed his face in,' Ed admitted, dragging his hands out of his pocket and flexing out his fingers. The metal of his automail shifted and glimmered in the setting sun, but it was the slick of blood on Ed's left palm that caught Roy's eye. It was not much, but the small crescent cuts in that lined skin told him all he needed to know. Ed's fists had been clenched hard, locked into weapons with the need to lash out. Roy knew Ed would not throw a punch without good cause, and his heart clenched in empathy.

'From where I'm standing, I'd say he deserved it. If not from you, then from his wife.' It was a gentle hint, a subtle way to test the waters and see if his assumptions about the situation were correct, and Roy winced as Ed's shoulders hunched again, removing the last doubts from his mind.

Something growled deep in Roy's mind, and black, primal thoughts ghosted across his consciousness. In that moment, Roy wished Mark would come striding around that corner again. He would show him the true meaning of pain – a just punishment for making Ed look like that: beaten, guilty, and sick with himself.

'I didn't know,' Ed said quietly, as if the admission was something that had to be given voice. 'Didn't even ever think someone would lie about that kind of shit. I mean, why marry someone if you're just going to fuck around behind their back?' He shook his head, a sharp, bitter movement that sent his ponytail rippling down his back. 'I only found out because I saw them together and noticed the rings on their fingers.' He shot Roy a pained look, shrugging one shoulder as he muttered, 'Can't remember the last time I felt _that_ stupid.'

Letting out a gentle sigh, Roy moved closer, turning so he could lean back against the wall of the apartment building. If he was honest with himself, he needed the support. His body felt as taut as a bow string, and his knees were jelly-like, though whether that was from anger at Mark or simply because of Ed's proximity, Roy was not sure. All he knew was that Ed had probably been beating himself up over Mark and his wife for God knew how long, and Roy would do anything to ease the bitter stranglehold of Ed's guilt.

'I know,' he said, not lifting his head as his heart thudded. It was difficult to open up and share any kind of vulnerability, but Ed needed to hear it more than Roy needed to keep it hidden. 'You wonder how you didn't figure it out, because when you look back on it, it's obvious they were someone else's. All the little clues that you just accepted as normal behaviour make so much more sense.' He scuffed at the pavement, remembering weeks, now long in the past, where he had questioned himself time and again over what had happened. 'Even if you know it's not your fault, you can't help but recall that you never outright asked them if they were married. You just assumed that since they were interested, then they weren't already taken.'

He could feel Ed's eyes on him, intelligent and aware. He would have guessed Roy was talking from personal experience, and when Roy glanced up, there was a mixture of surprise and curiosity in Ed's expression. Part of Roy expected a torrent of questions, but Ed just nodded, and his next breath was deeper and more meditative, as if Roy's quiet confession had helped him to re-centre himself.

'It wasn't your fault, Ed,' Roy murmured. 'Even though you feel bad for it, you've been betrayed just as much as his wife.'

'Yeah, but she's a bit more invested in the relationship than I was,' Ed replied, and that admission should not have eased the heaviness in Roy's heart quite so much. 'Mark's her husband, and for me he was just...' He trailed off, shifting uncomfortably as he shook his head. 'A mistake. Can't believe the shit thinks I'm going to have changed my mind just because I've been away on assignment.'

Roy had assumed the breakup was not fresh. The pain might be there, but it was a bitter, hardened thing. Besides, if Ed had been involved with someone else, then he would never have let Roy kiss him. Ed was far too loyal for that. 'You found out before you left?' he asked, watching Ed give a firm, decisive nod.

'Almost ripped his fuckin' head off, made it clear I wanted nothing to do with him anymore and got on with my life.' Ed lifted his chin, and Roy watched, fascinated at how quickly Ed could regain his strength. All it took was a few words, and the solid-steel core of him would shine through once more, straightening his spine and banishing any hint of uncertainty. This was the Ed he knew, defiant, powerful, and determined; no idiot of Mark's calibre could shake that, not for long.

He was also giving Roy a penetrating look, a suspicious frown creasing his brow as he asked, 'What are you doing here, anyway?'

The nervousness in Roy's stomach thrashed to life once more, making his muscles tremble and his mouth go dry. It was perverse that some deep, animal part of him felt it had some kind of right to Ed's attention, but when he became the focus of that golden gaze he was rendered almost helpless by the abrupt shriek of his endless uncertainties. Except that, this time, he could not let doubt have the final say. Roy knew his last chance when it stood before him, rich with potential, and he was not about to throw it away.

Before he could summon up his voice to speak, a low growl rumbled in the air, and the grin on Roy's lips was genuine as he watched Ed press a hand to his stomach, blushing and scowling all at once.

'Come on,' Roy said, straightening up from the wall of the apartment building, his hands in his pockets. 'Let's get you some dinner. I'm guessing you forgot about lunch again.'

'I was busy,' Ed snapped, but it was a bark without any bite, and he gave Roy a doubtful look before asking, 'Are you paying?'

'That depends how much you eat,' Roy replied with a smile, 'but I suppose I can probably afford it.' He tipped his head fractionally to one side, watching the questions flicker behind Ed's eyes. The brain in that thick skull was working hard, examining all the angles. Roy had once thought that Ed struggled to read people, but it occurred to him that maybe Ed was just studying things in a different light than the rest of the world.

Ed's stomach growled again, and that was all the urging he appeared to need, because he shoved his hands in his pockets and closed the distance between them, falling in at Roy's side as they began to walk. 'Fine. Feed me, then you tell me why you turned up here tonight.'

Roy nodded, trying to appear outwardly casual while his blood raced in his veins and his heart thudded hard and fast. Ed probably already suspected the truth about why Roy had come looking for him, but he could not blame Ed for second-guessing his own assumptions.

Going out for dinner had not been part of Roy's plan, but now he wondered if it was a blessing in disguise. There was so much broken communication between him and Ed, but perhaps this was an opportunity to set that right.

Taking a deep breath, Roy smiled to himself, walking along at Ed's side and letting himself enjoy the simple pleasure of Ed's presence. Whatever happened in the next few hours, he would be grateful, because if nothing else was achieved tonight – if it ended in nothing but the final, quiet decision that a relationship was impossible – then Roy would still have something he had never thought possible.

A date with Edward Elric.

* * *

It was not a date. Ed had to keep reminding himself of that as he and Roy wandered through the streets. It did not matter that his heart was doing strange things in his chest, pulsing out a rhythm that seemed to have very little to do with blood but was still all about life. It meant nothing that he could barely take his eyes off Roy – the line of his cheekbones, the fall of his hair, and the earnest smiles that crossed his lips and lit those dark blue eyes with happiness – because this was not a date.

Was it?

Ed had to admit that, even as his mind hissed out warnings, it felt like this was more than just dinner with a friend. An underlying tension resonated between them, crowding the air to the point of restlessness, and every inch of Ed's skin felt sensitive to Mustang's presence. Roy played games and manipulated people, Ed knew that, but he had experienced Roy's artifice before and this – this felt completely different.

Around them, the people of Central were beginning their evening. The sun had dimmed, leaving the first dazzling stars to pick out their pictures in the sky, and he and Roy strolled comfortably onwards. Around them, people talked and laughed, their footsteps clattering on the streets as cars hummed past, but it was a bubble of sound somehow held separate from him and Roy. Ed only had ears for Roy's voice, softer now than it ever was in the office. They talked about everything that crossed their minds except for the one important question that hovered, ghost-like, above their heads.

It should have been awkward, stifling the conversation and choking them both into silence, but for once, Ed could read Roy's expression with ease. Just because they were not talking about what happened on Friday night did not mean it was forgotten. He had seen Roy's resolve back at the apartment building, an echo of his own determination, and Ed knew his questions would be answered, and soon.

This was merely an interlude, an oasis in the desert of confusion in which they were stranded, and once Ed thought about it, he realised that this could be something they both needed. How often did he and Roy ever get to really talk about anything other than work? Even now, the military still hovered on the edge of Ed's awareness, gleaming in the braid of Roy's uniform and burdensome in the weight of Ed's watch in his pocket. Yet with every minute, that was fading. It was easy to forget about rank and the military, and as Roy took his gloves off, tucking them into his pocket, even alchemy loosened its grasp on Ed's mind, relinquishing him to the night.

It was him and Roy, that was all. Not a date, but close enough.

'This way,' Roy urged, leading Ed down a secluded side-street and into one of the city squares. Restaurants lined all four sides, tempting customers with the rich scents of exotic cuisine, and Ed's stomach roared with approval as his mouth started to water. He saw a glimmer of amusement cross Roy's face, honest and warm as he asked, 'What kind of food do you feel like?'

'Xingian,' Ed replied without hesitation, turning towards the building where coloured lanterns hung outside, casting pools of crimson and sapphire light into the street. The air was thick with spice and chatter, the sizzle of stir-fry and the foreign babble of the cooks hidden from sight. It was one of Central's better Xingian places, and Ed shifted impatiently as he and Roy waited to be seated. From the look on the head waiter's face, Roy was no stranger to this restaurant, and within a minute they were seated in comfortable chairs, a table between them and the menu splayed in Ed's hands.

With a sinking feeling, Ed realised Roy would probably want to take his time before ordering, but a quick glance over the top of the menu proved him wrong. Roy was not looking at the food on offer; he was watching Ed, observant at always, but with a sultry, smoky edge to his expression that made the hunger in Ed's gut slip lower and start to smoulder.

Catching Ed's questioning glance, Roy shrugged with loose-limbed grace. 'I already know what I want.'

The subtle innuendo was enough to make Ed's cheeks heat, and he scowled as Roy tried and failed to hide his grin. His happiness was natural and practically contagious; it made Roy look about five years younger, no longer a general but a man in the prime of his life and having fun, and Ed struggled not to smile back. 'So I can order now?'

When Roy nodded, Ed caught the waiter's attention, ignoring Roy's smothered laugh of surprise when he ordered several dishes. 'What?' Ed demanded. 'It's doing your stupid research that made me miss lunch.'

'You forget to eat at least one meal every day, Ed, regardless of what you're doing. How is the research, by the way?'

It was an idle question asked in innocent curiosity, and somehow it did not feel like work as Ed grunted and reached for one of the bread rolls that had been left on the table – determined to keep his stomach quiet until the meal showed up. 'Boring, seriously flawed, but I think I can make something of it.' Normally, he did not bother to tell Mustang the details of the alchemy, not because he thought Roy would not get it, but because the bastard had enough on his plate without listening to Ed go on about transmutations. Now, though, he was intent and interested, every aspect of his body language suggesting that Ed had all of his attention.

Ed did not exactly mean to keep talking, but the conversation wove itself around them, skipping from alchemy to assignments and back again with perfect ease. Ed listened, oblivious to the other diners around them as Roy described an island he had been sent to once off the coast of Cretia, paradise as long as you did not mind the scorpions and spiders as big as dinner-plates. It was all too easy – and convenient, sometimes – for Ed to forget that Roy had been like him once, a bit older at the time, but still a Major risking his neck in the name of the military.

Their meal arrived, the food on their plates diminishing as the evening slipped away and true night fell. More lanterns were lit, casting dappled light like spilt paint across the other patrons, and in the distance Ed heard the clock tower strike ten at night. He and Roy had been talking for hours about anything and everything that crossed their minds.

It was as if they were better than friends, knowledgeable of each other, but still learning more with every passing moment, and Ed wished the thought of spending his life getting to know Roy better did not fill him with such tremulous happiness.

They lingered over coffee, and Ed barely noticed the crowd around them start to thin out as people began to get home to their beds. He was too intent on the man opposite him – not Mustang, but Roy – a man Ed had known half of his life but never seen more than a glimpse of until now.

Finally, Roy gestured for the bill, and Ed's chest went tight as he realised that the evening was probably coming to an end. Tonight had been enough to show Ed what they could have together, and he wanted to see where that could go. He wanted this: not just the sex or the passion, but the man in front of him, but what about Roy? What did he want?

Nearly a week ago, Mustang had said this was something they could not have. And now here they were, not kissing, not touching, but intimate in a way that seemed to mean a whole lot more, and Ed was sure that it was genuine. Sometimes it seemed like half of Amestris knew Mustang was a good date – attentive and charming – but Ed knew Roy well enough to figure out what was an act and what was sincere. Nothing tonight had come off as false, but that did not stop the flutter of butterflies in Ed's stomach as he got to his feet and followed Roy out of the restaurant.

'Are you all right?' Roy asked as they strolled back across the square, heading, Ed realised, back towards his apartment building. It was tempting to lie, to smile and nod and just try and keep the happiness going for as long as he could, but Ed did not have the strength for that. He needed to know if this date, or whatever, was just a one off, or if Roy had honestly changed his mind and was trying to start something.

'Why did you come looking for me at my apartment earlier?' he asked, swallowing tightly against the sudden dryness in his mouth. Ed had a fairly good idea, but he was past making assumptions. After everything that had passed between them, he needed something concrete to go on, and when Roy hesitated, he frowned, 'I know it wasn't a coincidence, Mustang. You wanted something. What was it?'

Slowly, Roy nodded, pausing in the corner of the square. The street-lamps were further apart here, outlining the darkness rather than throwing the world into bright relief. He looked tense and nervous, a little paler than normal as he chewed briefly on his lip before turning to face Ed. His hands were still in his pockets, but those broad shoulders were rounded and defensive, uncertain in a way that looked completely wrong on Roy's frame, and the warm glow in Ed's chest flickered with shadows of apprehension.

'I need to talk to you,' he murmured at last, and although his voice was quiet, there was a gleam of strength in Roy's eyes that Ed knew well. Ed's heart stuttered, shredded once more between hope and fear, and he shifted his weight as he shrugged his shoulders.

'About?'

Roy ducked his head, a faint, wretched smile curving his mouth before he drew in a shaky breath. 'This.'

Ed's breath caught in his throat as Roy's fingers curved loosely around his wrist. He could feel the tremor in that grasp, and although Roy's gentle tug was a request, rather than a demand, it was impossible to ignore. Automatically, Ed took the one step necessary to close the distance, drawn forward by some invisible force that Ed could not deny. For days his body had ached with the memory of Roy's heat, but now it felt as if his skin was scorching, and Ed's nerves sparked with need as desire's slack coils tightened around him anew.

Roy's lips brushed against his, and it was as if the touch paper had been lit. All the dark emotion that had twisted through him since Friday went up in smoke, blanked out white by the soft stroke of Roy's tongue along his lips before Ed opened his mouth, accepting without question.

This was easy, tongue, lips, teeth and taste, blood humming in Ed's veins and little, snatched breaths coiling in his lungs like drug smoke. Like this, talking did not matter, because he was being told over and over again that what Roy had tried to nip in the bud on Friday night still bloomed strong and beautiful, waiting to be acknowledged.

Ed could feel the unsettled tremors running through Roy's body, shivering through his own skin as if they were fused. Graceful hands skimmed down his back, catching in the folds of his coat before freeing themselves to continue on their journey, and all Ed could do was give a moan of encouragement, too lost in the rising sea of relief and need to gather together his scattered thoughts.

The air was heavy, like a summer storm, brimming with the potential of an explosive tempest, and Ed tightened his hand in the lapels of Roy's jacket, holding him firm and returning the kiss fervently. It would be so simple to let their bodies do the talking, to stagger back to a bed somewhere and let this build to a point where the only way down again was release, but even as the sultry thought clouded his mind, Ed realised that it was not an option. Roy was right: they needed to talk, not just with flesh and heat, but with words.

They broke the kiss at the same time, flushed and panting, both unsteady with want. Distance was not an option. Ed's body keened for Roy's cried out for warmth and the touch of that pale skin. His lips felt used in the best possible way, and Ed blinked dazedly up at Roy as he tried to find his voice.

Thoughts that had once been mirror smooth were now shattered and jagged, cutting at him with sharp edges as he tried to tame the heavy, primal beat that resonated between his legs. It was painfully tempting to give into it – to let himself be carried away in lust's dance – but Ed wanted more than that. He just did not know how to ask for it, or even if Roy wanted the same.

'Thought you said you wanted to talk?' Ed asked, his voice hushed and his breath mingling with Roy's as they pressed against each other, hidden by the velvet shadows around them.

Roy bent his head, pressing his brow against Ed's as if he wished he could pour his thoughts straight into Ed's brain. 'I do – I just – I don't know how to say what I mean.'

Ed's smile was a faint thing, but it was born of hope and impossible to hide as he looked up into lust-darkened eyes.

'Just try, Roy.' He ducked his head, knowing that if he wanted Roy to open up, then he would at least have to give a bit of himself in return. The word on his tongue felt clumsy and ungainly, but he said it anyway, pouring himself into the single syllable and hoping that Roy would hear the need within it.

'Please?'

* * *


	4. Kill The Cat

Manners had never been part of Ed's repertoire; Roy could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times Ed had said “please”, but now that word drifted between them like a feather caught in a breeze, fragile and beautiful. Ed was still in the circle of his arms, watching and waiting, but his face was far from impassive. His head was tipped to one side, exposing his neck. On anyone else it would have looked coy, but Roy could see it for what it was: a request to be trusted. Ed's need to hear what Roy had to say was written in the faint, worried frown pinching his brow and the purse of those lips, still swollen from a kiss that had almost set Roy's soul alight.

There was no backing out. Courage was not the lack of fear, but having the strength to face it. Roy might be terrified of how this could end, but he would not turn and run – not now.

Laughter sounded behind them like a bursting bubble as a group of drunken women stumbled from one of the bars, too lost in their mirth to notice him and Ed. Their heels tapped on the cobbles as they walked away, weaving and holding onto each other for support. It was a rude reminder that they were far from alone. The middle of Central was not the best place for any kind of conversation or – Roy thought as Ed licked his lips, drawing his eye with a flash of pink and a glimmer of silver – another kiss.

'Not here,' Roy said softly, squeezing Ed's hip in gentle reassurance before stepping away and trying to ignore the pang of loss that shot through him. 'I don't mind where we go, your place or mine, but I don't want to be interrupted.'

Ed shot a dark glare at the backs of the departing women before he nodded his head, grabbing Roy's sleeve and giving it a tug. 'Come on, then. My apartment's closer.'

Roy swallowed as a new, dark uncertainty fluttered across his mind. 'What about Alphonse?' he asked, his heart sinking as he thought of the younger Elric. It would be hard enough explaining himself to Ed, but Al as well? Ed's brother was not the violent type, but when it came to Ed's well-being his quiet anger could be far more terrifying than any outburst Ed was capable of.

'He said he wasn't coming home tonight. Probably staying over with Claire again,' Ed replied. The words themselves could have sounded bitter, but Roy made out the undertones of happiness in Ed's voice. Roy knew from watching the two of them that Ed was not selfish in his love for his brother. He did not cling or try to hold Al back; he was simply pleased that Alphonse was a normal teenager again, alive and enjoying himself.

If he and Ed started something tonight, would it be the same? Would Ed share in the relationship, an equal, rather than hoard Roy's attention? So many times in the past, when things had started to get serious with a partner, Roy had found himself facing bitter ultimatums. Most of his lovers did not understand the demands of his job and childishly demanded more than Roy could give. That, more than anything, had taught him not to get too close. His ambitions were not forgiving towards emotional attachment and, more than anything, Roy did not want to drag Ed into that same position. Of everyone Roy had ever considered for a partner, Ed deserved worship, and Roy did not want to drive him away through helpless neglect.

Carefully, he pulled his sleeve free of Ed's grasp, weaving his bare fingers between Ed's gloved ones and giving one tight squeeze before letting him go again. Roy was not sure what he expected, but it was not the brief, wary smile that flashed over Ed's lips. Mutely, he fell back a half-pace to walk at Roy's side, shoulder-to-shoulder: a reassuring presence in the chill night air as they strode down the street and back towards the apartment in silence.

More than once, Roy tried to say something, but the words kept catching in his throat like stones. His mind was racing with scenarios, trying to plot the best way forward, but there were too many unknowns. Besides, Roy knew that if Ed caught even a hint of manipulation, the night would end in disaster. The only choice was to tell the truth, no matter how open and vulnerable it left him, and Roy tried not to cringe at the thought of being immersed in something so totally beyond his control. What happened tonight was down to Ed in the end. Roy could only speak and hope that Ed's decision mended his heart, rather than broke it again.

'Lights are off,' Ed said quietly, jerking his head towards the dark windows of his apartment. Roy followed his gaze, realizing it probably meant Ed was right: Al was not home tonight.

Roy's stomach clenched with his thrashing nerves as they crossed the street and paused at the door. The keys jingled briefly in Ed's hand before he slipped them into the lock, flicking the tumblers open and letting Roy into the hallway, and Roy found himself watching the younger man intently.

Perhaps Ed was as nervous as he was; his jaw was clenched and his shoulders tense, as if he were bracing himself for a fight. If it had been anyone else, Roy would have wondered if the body language was genuine, yet Ed was not the kind of person to torment another. He was honest, above and beyond lovers' tricks, and Roy realised that the faint signs of anxiety were genuine. Clearly he had messed Ed around so much over the past few days - kissing him, turning him away and then tracking him down once more - that Ed was reserving judgement. After all, it was the sensible thing to do.

The key rattled in the lock to Ed's apartment door, and when he pushed it aside Roy peered into the rooms beyond. He had expected stacks of books and paper everywhere. If Ed lived alone, he probably would not have been able to see the floor, but it was clear Al had some influence over the state of the flat he shared with his brother.

Ed shrugged out of his coat and peeled off his gloves, throwing them in the general direction of the couch. They missed, but Ed did not pay any attention as he turned to face Roy, arms folded as he leaned expectantly against the back of the sofa.

It was like being caught in the headlights, and all Roy's words turned to glass in his throat. He swallowed convulsively, trying to speak, but his mind was in the full flight of panic, now, too disoriented to even think of a starting point. After a few seconds, far too long for Roy's liking, Ed sighed, his meagre patience already gone. With a shake of his head, he waved his hand towards a waiting armchair.

'Sit,' he ordered, 'and if you don't start talking soon, then I will.' It was not exactly a threat, but there was something in Ed's voice that suggested such an option was not the best way to go. 'I'm getting some more coffee. You want any?'

'Yes, thanks.' The plea was croaky, and Roy winced, but Ed did not seem to notice as he ambled through to the kitchen. Roy could hear the clank of the kettle being put on the burner and the sound of mugs being retrieved from one of the cupboards: busy, domestic sounds that somehow slackened the knots of tension that were choking him half to death.

The chair Ed had indicated sat expectantly, and Roy grimaced. The last thing he felt like doing was sitting down; the ease of the evening had vanished, leaving him full of jittery energy. He needed to be upright and alert as he faced what could be the most important conversation he would ever have. Besides, he was too restless to sit and wait for Ed's return. Squaring his shoulders, Roy shrugged out of his coat, picking up Ed's and laying them both on the back of the couch before turning towards the kitchen.

It was a neat little room: no dirty dishes stacked up and no food left lying around. There were books, though, more about alchemy than cookery, and Roy smiled as a vision of Ed reading some treatise of transmutations while absently making dinner flickered across his mind. The reality was not quite so idyllic: Ed moved around the kitchen with fluid ease, going through the motions of making coffee on autopilot, but there was an edgy feeling in the air that seemed to crackle threateningly. Ed was too tense to be unaware of Roy's presence, but when Roy spoke, he still looked over his shoulder, eyes wide and brow arched in sudden surprise.

'I'm sorry,' Roy murmured, running his fingers through his hair and glancing away at the floor. Suddenly there were too many things to be said crowding up his mind. It was not just that he needed to explain, but he _wanted_ to. Ed deserved that much. Trying not to let his voice stutter and stall, Roy looked back at Ed, licking his lips before making his confession. 'I made a mess of things: kissed you and then told you it was something we couldn't do when I was the one who started it. I didn't mean to fuck you about, but I – I panicked.'

Ed frowned, lips pinched as he tipped his head to one side as he seemed to try and puzzle Roy out through sight alone. 'What made you freak out?' he asked softly, the bafflement in his voice obviously genuine. 'It was one kiss – not like your entire career was going to go to shit because of that, but you acted like –' Ed shrugged, shifting his weight uncomfortably. 'Like you'd just made the biggest mistake of your life.'

Roy shook his head firmly, casting Ed's idea aside. 'No, the biggest mistake was turning you away.' He felt Ed's attention intensify to the point of pain, utterly focussed. Nothing, not the cooling coffee or the rush of Central's night could distract Ed from him now, and Roy swallowed as he tried to think of the right words to explain.

'I didn't think it would feel the way it did. I wasn't lying when I said I was trying to satisfy my curiosity. In a way, I think I hoped to prove to myself that I wasn't missing out on anything, and instead...' He rubbed a hand over his forehead, feeling shaken already, like he was walking a tightrope and the slightest loss of balance would send him plummeting into the abyss. 'I realised that, perhaps, what I felt for you was a lot more than a simple case of lust.'

The words tore themselves free of him, and Roy tried to keep his posture straight, tried to look certain when all he wanted was to flinch away from Ed's presence. Honesty was a double-edged blade, and he could feel the sharp, keening bite cutting through him. Worse, Roy could already see that there would be no compromise. Ed was going to drag it all out of him, one word at a time, until the full breadth of the story lay between them for him to understand.

'No shit.' Ed did not shift his gaze or turn away. He simply stood there, outwardly relaxed and at ease, like he knew he had the upper hand. It was only on closer inspection that Roy could see the taut ropes of the muscles in his arm, tense and unyielding, not with violence, but with simple stress that came from confusion. 'So you got weird because you thought, what? That I'd force you into a relationship that you didn't want? That I'd fuck up your job in the process?'

He moved, predator quick, but it was not an attack; Roy did not even cringe. He trusted Ed too much to believe any of the inner turmoil could twist into a fight, but he also understood the length and breadth of Ed's emotional intensity. He never stayed still for long, and now Roy watched him pace around the tiny kitchen, too worked up to stay still.

'You said you got scared because you thought it could be more serious than just sex – like one night would be all right but more than that's too much. Why?' Ed waved a hand, twisting around to prowl back the other way, head ducked and shoulders rounded. 'You think that any of the shit that people would say could stop you being Fuhrer if you wanted? I've seen the way you work, Mustang, you'd still have them eating out of your hand in a week no matter who you were fucking.'

'It would never be just “fucking”, Ed,' Roy replied softly, wincing as Ed bristled, no doubt taking that quiet correction as confirmation. 'Wait, that's not the reason I backed off.'

'So what then? It's not the military, it's something else. Public opinion,' Ed's sneer was more pain than derision. 'If they're trying to run a fuckin' smear campaign, who you're screwing'll make no difference, they'll use it anyway.'

'It's not that, Ed. It's not –'

'So what then?' Ed demanded, coming to a halt nearby, arms folded tight across his chest like a shield. 'If it's not the military, and it's not the rest of the fucking world then it's what – me? Am I just not – not enough or something?'

The half-hidden hurt in Ed's voice was like a knife twisting beneath Roy's ribs, catching at nerves and making them scream beneath his skin, but it was what he could see that intensified the ghostly agony. Ed's right hand was clenched into a bright silver fist, but the left was open, palm pressed to the automail as if he were trying to hide it, and his body was fractionally turned away.

Roy jolted forward instinctively, hands outstretched to clutch gently at Ed's shoulders. 'You're more than enough,' he whispered, giving Ed a gentle nudge in emphasis and feeling the words swell up inside him: water behind the dam of Roy's own instinctive caution. The truth refused to be restrained, and he dragged in a shuddering breath before he spoke again, hushed, but more certain than he had ever been of anything else in his life. 'I was afraid that I would get too close to you, that I would leave myself open and vulnerable and then when things went wrong, I would be left with nothing.'

Ed blinked, his eyes like twin suns as the war of defiance and misery gradually ebbed from his expression. For a handful of heartbeats, he simply stared, and Roy started to wonder if Ed had even heard him. He looked like he was waiting for the punchline to some sick joke, but, finally, Ed licked his lips, cheeks tinged with the faintest hint of embarrassment as he asked, 'And now?'

Roy moved his hand, cupping Ed's jaw softly and drawing him close. 'I'm still afraid,' he confessed, feeling breathless and light-headed, almost sick with hope, 'but I can't let you go without trying.'

His heart tightened painfully as he tried to read Ed's expression, but for once it was a mask, emotional in itself, but utterly opaque. He could no more tell what Ed was thinking than he could predict the future, and that lack of knowledge clutched at Roy with sharp claws, trying to choke him as he struggled to find his voice. There was something he had to say, something that had crept up on him sideways and caught him in its silken web, despite his self-denial. Even if it changed nothing – even if Ed still turned him away – it was something that had to be said.

Taking a deep breath that somehow felt like both his first and his last, Roy put the final piece of himself on the line.

'I love you.'

* * *

The world could have ended, could have crashed to a halt and gone up in flames, and Ed would not have noticed. Roy's words hovered in his ears as if making themselves at home there, and the rush of hope in his heart was only matched by the roaring snarl of doubt in his mind.

This was Roy Mustang, manipulative playboy, and the word “love” rarely came into anything he did, at least in relation to the people he took to his bed. The man Ed knew, the one whom he had spent years snapping and snarling at over a blank expanse of desk, would never leave himself so vulnerable. That was not the way Mustang worked. He waited, choosing his moment, until he was more than sure that he would not be caught in the backlash, and then he showed his cards, not before – not when there was so much at stake.

Except that Ed was not just dealing with Mustang, was he? He was not talking to the Brigadier-General or the Flame Alchemist, but the sum of those parts. Roy was familiar in so many ways, but Ed only knew the black and white of their professional life, not the shades of grey that made up the man. It was like being lost in a country with no map, and Ed narrowed his eyes, searching Roy's expression for any hint of that familiar smirk or the light of smug trickery in his eyes.

All that met his gaze was the same bitter cocktail of hope and fear that was flowing through his own veins, and Ed swallowed tightly as he realised that Roy had done all he could. He had exposed his inner emotions, for better or worse, and now stood there like a prisoner awaiting execution, hoping for a reprieve but afraid that he was going to feel the bite of the axe at any minute. It was up to Ed to choose which it would be, and that was not as simple a decision.

He wanted Roy – wanted what they'd had tonight: the happiness, the trust, the security... Now Ed was being offered all of that, and he could not quite bring himself to take it with nothing but faith in his heart. It was not just the past few days that had left him wrecked and unsure: it was years of manipulation, of never knowing Roy's real motives and struggling to tell the truth from the layers of lies. Did he really have the courage to ignore the warnings that whispered in his mind and believe that this – the man standing in front of him, pale and intense – was the real Roy Mustang, the one beneath all the masks?

The answer was like a punch in the chest, a hard, sure slam against his ribs that he was sure Roy felt too. Ed reached up, gripping his fingers loosely around Roy's wrist as the words clawed at his throat like living things, chaotic and panicked. They rasped across his tongue, too honest, too painful, but unstoppable.

'I don't believe you,' he whispered, tightening his grip on Roy's wrist so that he could not pull away. He could see Roy's shock of pain, already being hidden by an impassive veil that Ed knew he could not let settle completely over those features. His voice lifted, more challenging than he intended, but there was no way to water down the intensity of everything that was building like a storm in his body. 'Prove it. I don't care how long it takes, Mustang, I've got years, but I'm going to need more than just your word.'

He met Roy's dark eyes head on, hoping that the meaning of what he was saying would not go over Roy's head; he was smarter than that, wasn't he? All he wanted was the evidence to back up what his heart was telling him. All he needed was for Roy to show him that he was willing to try and make this work – that it was more than a game or a fling, and a faint smile crossed Ed's lips as he saw the realisation go nova in Roy's gaze. The blank expression shifted, and Roy lifted one eyebrow as he smiled, letting his arm relax in Ed's grip, twisting his hand so that their fingers could wrap around one another as easily as if they had been holding hands for years.

'Are you asking me to woo you, Edward?' Roy asked quietly, the teasing edge of his words playful rather than malicious, and his smile became a grin as Ed glared.

'Not a girl, Mustang,' he growled, curling his automail fingers in Roy's collar and pulling him closer, not sure whether he was trying to threaten Roy, seduce him or both. 'I'm asking you to show me what you think we could have. How you do that is –'

The kiss softly cut off his sentence, wiping his mind blank as quickly as if his brain was nothing but a chalkboard and leaving it free of the annoying scrawl of his thoughts. Roy's tongue flashed across Ed's lips, and he opened his mouth willingly, more than happy to let Roy convince him. It would take more than a kiss and more than sex, but the warm heat humming in Ed's veins wanted to build itself higher, and he let the fire surge through his bones as he tangled his tongue with Roy's, feeling the man in his arms shiver in helpless delight.

Power like this was heady, and Ed knew how easy it would be to lose himself in it. All those years of having his strings yanked by Mustang, and now he was the one who could manipulate Roy with as little as a brush of his fingertip or nip of his teeth. It was tempting, but Ed knew that this was not about gaining control, nor relinquishing it. Any relationship had to be about sharing the power, and that had to start right at the beginning, or little games would become battlefields of resentment.

Roy knew that too, Ed could feel it in the skim of his bare thumb up and down his neck, both soothing and teasing, while his lips on Ed's see-sawed between pliant and giving and gentle, subtle demands. The kiss was not an effort to reduce Ed to a creature of need, although it was definitely having that effect. He could practically taste the acceptance and promise on Roy's tongue. Ed had spent the past five days wondering if those kisses had ended any chance of a relationship between him and Roy, but now he was finding out that it had simply been the start.

Steam gradually ebbed from the coffee mugs on the kitchen counter, trailing off in dying wisps as Ed lost himself to the sensation of Roy's body pressed against his, warm arms around him and fingers stroking at every bit of bare skin they could find. The desire was still there, but it was not the desperate-edged inferno of a few nights ago. Now it was softer, wrapping around Ed in golden veils as he slipped his hand between the buttons of Roy's shirt, brushing gently at the smooth skin beneath and smiling as the growl of appreciation rumbled in Roy's chest.

Relief and need mingled together, eddying like dye in the clear water of Ed's mood, and he broke back, letting out a gentle sigh of happiness. Roy pressed a kiss to his brow and another to his temple as if he could not bear to part his lips from Ed's skin for more than a moment, and Ed felt his quiet words more than heard them.

'Thank you. I was worried you'd say I'd missed my chance.'

Ed shook his head, nuzzling at the warm, soft skin at the base of Roy's throat. He felt light, as if he had been carrying around an unimaginable weight, and now it was gone. 'Wasn't going to wait forever for you to figure it out,' he murmured, 'but I don't give up easy, either. Before you turned up at my apartment, I was going to go looking for you.'

Roy's hand skimmed down Ed's ponytail, as light as the flutter of a butterfly's wing, to brush the nape of his neck, stroking at the tense muscles that knotted beneath the surface. 'Why?'

'I needed some answers.' Ed breathed in, letting the spicy scent of Roy's skin fill his lungs as he pressed a chaste kiss to Roy's pulse. 'Needed to know why you'd said no.'

'Because I'm an idiot,' Roy replied quietly, his arms tightening around Ed's body in silent apology. 'I was so busy dreading how it could end that I became afraid to even give it a chance.' He pulled back fractionally, running a finger along Ed's hairline and tucking a strand of hair back behind his ear. The gesture was agonisingly intimate. Anyone else trying it would have probably ended up with a broken wrist, but Ed had to fight himself not to lean into the curve of Roy's hand.

'What changed your mind?' Ed asked, his arms wrapped comfortably around Roy's waist as he looked up into eyes the colour of the summer night sky. 'You seemed pretty certain on Friday that this wasn't an option.'

Roy did not seem to even need to think about it. 'You. I've known you for years, but you did not try and fight me when I said no. You respected my choice, even if you didn't agree. It made me realise how much might be at stake.' Roy nudged gently at Ed's forehead, and a soft sigh ghosted across Ed's skin as Roy's shoulders sagged a little. 'Although a couple of people also felt it was necessary to tell me I was being an idiot, but if I'm honest I think they only accelerated my decision.'

'Yeah, well, I'm glad you finally figured it out,' Ed murmured, stretching up to capture Roy's lips again in a brief, teasing kiss, laughing gently at Roy's whimper when he withdrew. 'I was starting to think this was already over.'

'Not if I have any say in it,' Roy whispered, tilting Ed's chin and running his thumb over Ed's bottom lip, dragging at the swollen, sensitive skin in a way that turned Ed's next breath hot and heavy in his chest. 'I want to make this work.'

'We'll fight, you know that, right?' Ed asked, nipping at the tip of Roy's thumb and revelling in the thrill of excitement that shot through him as Roy's pupils flared. 'It's not going to be easy – not between you and me.'

'Maybe not.' Roy's eyes locked with his, bright with hope and promise as he ducked his head closer and murmured, 'But I know it will be worth it.'

Ed's thoughts scattered again like autumn leaves before the wind as the soft, tender, loving kiss seared his lips and sparked along his nerves. Part of him wanted to ask how Roy could be so sure, but the answer was there in the stroke of their tongues and the tight sounds of every captured breath. His skin felt like it was building a fever, glowing with the hot, hard surge of his blood in his veins, and every gasp was full of the clean spark and spice scent of Roy's body. They were still fully clothed and decent, standing in the kitchen, but Ed knew he might as well be naked in Roy's arms: offering himself up while Roy did exactly the same, both of them hoping that the future would bring more joy than pain.

The distant chime of the clock tower intruded in the peace of the room, stirring the air and reminding Ed that there was a world beyond these four walls and Roy's embrace. Reluctantly, he pulled away, feeling the brief cling of their lips as if they never wanted to part again. Roy sighed, a short, irritated sound at the intrusion of reality and Ed smiled at the distinctly petulant tilt to Roy's mouth.

'It's getting late, and we both have work tomorrow,' he murmured, sounding like the words were forcing themselves free of his throat. It was gratifying to know that Roy did not want to part any more than Ed did, but there was no avoiding the life they both had beyond each other. Military duty would always come between them, and the sooner they both got used to that, the better.

Ed reached up, tracing one fingertip over the dark shadows that rested under Roy's eyes: a sign of too many shattered nights. Ed hated to think he had been the cause, although he could feel the same exhaustion waiting in the wings, ready to drag him down into its clutches. The past few days had put them both through hell, and now the thought of waiting out the night without Roy at his side was almost painful. What had grown between them was still too new and fragile, unsteady like a newborn foal, and Ed was not completely convinced that Roy would not have changed his mind again by dawn.

'Stay here?' he asked quietly, trying to ignore the nervous thrill that raced through him as he watched Roy's face. It felt like he was asking for more than he was allowed, but the idea of letting Roy walk away sat badly in the pit of Ed's stomach, tight and uncomfortable. He wanted to wake up tomorrow and know that this had not been a dream. He wanted Roy next to him, right there and real, not on the other side of the city and out of reach.

'On the couch?' Roy asked in the quiet voice of a man who did not dare to assume too much, and he smiled when Ed rolled his eyes.

'What do you think?' Ed shifted, feeling self-conscious as he muttered, 'It's a double bed if you – you know, you want.'

Roy's hand slipped down Ed's arm, catching his hand and weaving their fingers together, strong and firm, warm, trusting, and clearly waiting for Ed to lead the way. 'As long as you're sure, then I'd love to stay.'

He was just talking about tonight, Ed knew that, but deep down it sort of sounded like Roy meant forever. A crooked smile curved Ed's lips as he tugged gently on Roy's hand, leaving behind the kitchen and the cold mugs of coffee, flicking out lights as he went. The bedroom door was open wide, and the bed beckoned from within, soft and tempting. The sight should have made Ed hesitate, but he did not even pause as he guided Roy into the room, never once letting Roy's fingers slip from his grasp.

It had taken so long to catch him, and Ed was damned if he was going to let Roy go.

Not now, and not ever.  


* * *

Morning sunlight crept through the window, ghosting over Roy's face and pulling him into the crystal shallows on the border of sleep and wakefulness. He felt warm, comfortable and completely relaxed. A bright light of happiness was glowing beneath his ribs, so unexpected that he opened his eyes, blinking at the unfamiliar ceiling over his head as his memories stirred to life.

He could not stop the smile that curved his lips, flourishing into a grin as he rolled his head to look at the man lying next to him, limp-limbed and heavy in the depths of slumber. Ed's hair was tousled around his head and shoulders, and his nose was pressed against Roy's shoulder, one arm draped heavily over Roy's waist as if to stop him from escaping during the night.

They had fallen asleep in each other's arms, talking and kissing, touching and stroking – skirting the needy edges of sex but never actually going that far. That in itself was a first for Roy. He could not remember the last time he had slept with someone without taking things through to their natural, inevitable conclusion. Normally he made love with a partner and sated sleep followed hot on the heels, leading to an awkward morning after, but this?

This was a world away from anything he had experienced before. He and Ed were both mature adults – there was no need for restraint – yet Roy found himself wanting to savour every moment, not just the sharp, cracking pleasure of release, but the quiet shared moments, hushed whispers and playful teasing. He wanted to enjoy the journey as much as the destination, and exhaustion had made the decision for them last night. One need over-rode the other.

Ed shifted next to him, pressing his face closer to Roy's bare shoulder and hooking his automail leg over Roy's. The line between the sleep-warmed metal of his knee and the soft, hot flesh of Ed's thigh made something twist pleasantly in Roy's stomach, and he curved the arm that lay under Ed's shoulders, pulling him closer.

Taking their time was all very well, but that did not change the fact that Roy was in bed with Ed, both of them naked of everything but underwear and pressed together like matching puzzle pieces. Ed's body fit against Roy's frame perfectly, blonde head tucked under Roy's chin, and every curve, dip and muscular plane pressed against him, tortuously hot and close.

Gently, unwilling to disturb Ed but desperate to touch him, Roy skimmed his fingertips over the smooth scars surrounding the automail port, feeling the throb of Ed's heart as he crossed that toned expanse of chest to curve up and over the dichotomous golden shoulder on the opposite side. It was like something out of a dream, this liberty. Ed was right here, and Roy'd had too many dreams like this shattered by the shrill of the alarm to quite trust what he was seeing. Any minute now he would wake up, and he would be back in his own bed, alone in body and life.

'Mmmmm.' Ed's sleepy purr rumbled against Roy's chest appreciatively, and half-lidded eyes lifted to Roy's face, still hazy with sleep, but rapidly sharpening with carnal intelligence. The smile on Ed's lips was a captivating mix of embarrassment and sinful happiness as he stretched lazily against Roy's side, rubbing against him like a cat. 'Morning, Roy.'

He made that sound like an invitation to stay in bed all day, husky and deep, and Roy's response died in his throat as Ed propped himself up on one elbow, leaning down to nuzzle at Roy's jaw. The position meant that one part of Ed's anatomy in particular, hard and not-at-all sleepy, was pressed wantonly against Roy's hip. It was enough to flick the switch between lazy half-arousal and an undeniable erection trapped in Roy's boxers, and his hand stroked automatically down Ed's side, fingers flirting along the waistband of his underwear as Ed made a faint, incoherent sound and nipped at Roy's bottom lip with sharp teeth.

Their bodies moved naturally together, as if they had been doing this for years, but there was no denying the volatile flash of untried need that sizzled along Roy's nerves. Ed's tongue lapped at his, the tongue bar a striking hardness amidst the soft warmth of Ed's mouth, and Roy moaned in helpless pleasure, nudging at Ed's waist until he was sprawled on Roy's chest, their legs entwined and Ed's automail foot rubbing teasingly at Roy's ankle while their hips ground together, teasing them both higher with the friction.  
  
What had been the gentle flash of tongues was rapidly becoming more demanding, and Roy buried his fingers in Ed's hair, feeling the tresses slip between his fingers as he arched upwards, making Ed moan as Roy's breath caught hard in his throat. Soon, taking it slow would no longer be an option, and Roy felt dizzy with need as Ed nudged his head aside and sucked with the faintest edge of teeth on the soft flesh of Roy's pulse.

The shrill of the alarm clock made them pull apart in surprise, both turning to glare at the offending time-piece. If Roy's gloves had been in the room, he would have melted it in punishment, but as it was he could only whimper as Ed shifted, leaving an echo of wanton pleasure in Roy's groin. His entire body felt like it was throbbing, attuned to Ed's frequency, and Roy winced as Ed hit the clock with his automail fist, denting the bells and bringing the clapper to a crooked halt.

'Fuck,' Ed moaned, settling back astride Roy's thighs, hair tumbling around his shoulders and cheeks flushed from the heat that still brewed between them, threatening to scorch them both. 'We have to get to work.'

Being a good toy soldier was absolutely the last thing on Roy's mind, and he let out a tight sigh, propping himself up on his elbows and glaring at the clock. There was no mercy to be found there. Ed had set the alarm to go off at the last possible moment. Even now there was a good chance they would both be late.

'We could call in sick,' Roy suggested, his breaths still ragged and hard.

It was a childish thought, but Roy saw the temptation spark and glow in Ed's eyes before the voice of reason whispered between them, and Ed bent a little, pressing a loving kiss to Roy's lips before he murmured, 'We can't, my boss is a bastard.' A crooked grin tilted Ed's lips as he butted Roy's forehead gently. 'Besides, we do it once, we'll do it always, and you can't. Not if you want to be Fuhrer. I'm not going to fuck that up for you, Roy.'

All Roy wanted was to shut out the world and bundle Ed back into his arms, but life did not work that way. Ed was right; habits they began now could make or break them, and Roy was damned if he was going to let the military tear apart anything he and Ed shared. Slowly, not trusting his voice to behave itself and say what he wanted, Roy nodded in agreement, nuzzling at the hollow of Ed's jaw. Somehow leaving this bed felt too much like walking away.

'Buy me dinner again tonight instead?'

Roy grinned at the quiet question, so Ed-like that it was barely a request at all and almost bordered on an order, but he could see its purpose. Ed was not just thinking about the next meal, he was making sure that there were plans laid out so that, once they were at work, they would not forget who they were to one another outside the office.

For a brief moment, Roy pretended to think about it. 'Okay, but I choose the restaurant.'

Ed grunted like that was a barely tolerable compromise, but the shy half-smile on his lips took the edge off of it, making Roy's heart clench with sudden joy as Ed bent to kiss him one more time before slithering out of bed and calling over his shoulder, 'Come on, Mustang, time to get up. If you stay there much longer Hawkeye will put a bullet between your eyes.'

'Yes, love.' Roy leaned back in the pillows, watching Ed shoot him an embarrassed glare before he wandered out towards the bathroom, leaving Roy alone with his thoughts and the comfortable, Ed-scented sheets. Beyond the window, the sounds of Central morning were getting under-way. Cars rushed past the streets and people hurried along the pavements. The sunshine was bright and glassy, spilling across the floor as Roy shut his eyes and relished the moment. He had never expected to feel like this, but now the future seemed to stretch before him, no longer an empty slog to the Fuhrership, but something rich with potential.

Nearly a week ago he had promised himself one kiss to ease his curiosity; he had never really imagined it could bring him to this point: a bright, glowing morning shared with Ed. Only one tiny thing cast a pale shadow on his mood: Ed had not returned his quiet declaration of love last night.

Instead, he had given Roy a chance to prove to them both that this – the tender first shoots of a relationship – was something worth nurturing. It should have been terrifying, having all his emotions on the line while Ed held back, but loving someone and saying it out loud were two entirely different things.

Just because Ed had not voiced his feelings did not mean that Roy's love was unrequited. One day, when Roy had earned it, Ed would say those words back, bold and unafraid.

The smile on Roy's face widened at that thought, and he glanced at the miserable clock before rolling out of bed. For once, he was looking forward to the future, because whatever ups and downs it held, there was now the promise of Ed, bright and constant, loyal and loving at his side.

 

**The End**

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> B xxx  
> [My Tumblr](http://the-pen-pot.tumblr.com)  
> [My Sherlock Fic](http://archiveofourown.org/users/BeautifulFiction/works?fandom_id=133185)  
> [My Hobbit Fic](http://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Kingmaker/works?fandom_id=873394)  
> [My Fullmetal Alchemist Fic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeautifulFiction_FMA/works)


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